Heart's Façade
by A Guy Named Goo
Summary: Revised version, formerlly Ougi. Story of what happens 16 years after the events in the anime to the gang, their kids, and a few new faces. Yaoi, childabuse, psychobabble, random weirdness, mild AyakaAizawa bashing. THE FIC IS ABANDONED.
1. Hot and Cold

Goo's Notes- This is the edited version of the fic originally released as "Ougi" on Fanfiction.Net. Renamed "Heart's Façade" by Kendra, Digimon Empress it originally followed the fic "Life of Shindou Shuichi: A Retrospective in Song" but now stands alone. (The only details from that fic you need to know is Touma and Mika broke up, Shuichi lost his arm after being hit by a car, Ryuuichi and K started going out, and Suguru and Hiro also coupled. It was also explained Ayaka's father forbid her from marrying Hiro so she married someone else. If you are interested in that fic go to http://www.fanfiction.net/profile.php?userid=12150. This version has been revised for spelling and grammar.

Disclaimer- I don't own the Gravitation characters, nor do I want to. They're fun to borrow, but I own plenty of my own to play with. (And trust me: just because you own the characters doesn't mean they magically come to life for you to play with except in writing, so the joys of copyright ownership are highly overrated.) I DO kinda sorta own Amai and Tokui. (Actually, I think I own them all the way, but because of their parentage and the fact they are supposed to be who Mika was pregnant with at the end of the series, I give the copyright holders of Gravitation partial credit for them.) If you want to use them for any reason (or one, the other, or both's name should this spark off a trend of people writing about Mika and Touma's kid(s)) then feel free to ask in my review section or, for a quicker response, e-mail me. I also own Chen Quon Yue and all other OCs.

Notes on Japanese- Besides the title, I only use three Japanese words: Kaasan (mom), Tousan (dad), and ojisan (uncle). I use these in my normal writing, not just my fics, which is why I am using them here. The rest of the Japanese I use (sparingly) are things you should know. If you don't, look them up or, better yet, re-watch your subbed Gravitation episodes as they say those things often. Besides, it's not like I'm using Japanese words no one knows at random or writing entire sentances and paragraphs in poor Japanese like some people. (You know who you are, so I won't name any names.)

Heart's Façade

Chapter One: Hot and Cold

Written by A Girl Named Goo

"Please?"

"No!"

"Pretty please?"

"No!"

"Pretty pretty please?"

"For the last time, no! You still haven't repaid me for the last time! Or the time before that, or the time before that!" Seguchi Amai said firmly, the tone of her voice suggesting the topic was not up for debate. She raked a hand through her short, feathery platinum blonde hair and continued reading her book, knowing if she looked up she'd end up caving in.

"But it's just this one last time," Seguchi Tokui begged his twin sister, large golden-hazel eyes brimming with tears.

"That's what you said the last time! And the time before that! And the time before that!" Amai argued, though against her better judgement she tore her dark green eyes from her book and looked at Tokui. And immediately she knew she was lost. One look at her slight, sickly brother, and she couldn't help but give in to his every desire, strange as many of them were.

Amai removed her reading glasses and sighed, putting a bookmark in her book and putting it on her beside table. "All right. Fine. Just this once. But dammit, I hate it when you look so adorable..."

A faint smile tinged Tokui's pale pink lips as he expressed his gratitude. 'Thank you so much, Amai. You don't know how much this means to me. I'll make it up to you, I swear..."

"Maybe if you told me what it is you do when you run away after I distract Kaasan I'd be more happy to help," Amai pointed out.

"Someday soon. I promise," Tokui reassured her. He'd been telling her the same thing for close to four years now.

Amai stood up, smoothing her white blouse and making sure she looked presentable to confront her mother. Though usually cheerful and carefree, when Amai wanted to she could be every bit as forboding as her father, and was a formidable opponent when drawn into an arguement. The only person who could move Amai, who was usually so stubborn, was her brother.

And not only could Amai act like Seguchi Touma if she wanted to, but she looked so much like him that it was eerie. Many people said they'd never noticed how feminine NG's president was before they saw him stand next to his sixteen year old daughter, who had the same delicate features, the same neat platinum blonde hair, the same large and deceptively innocent deep green eyes, and even the same mannerisms as her father.

Tokui, on the other hand, looked nothing like his twin sister, or even his parents. Instead, everyone told him he resembled what his uncle had looked like at his age, only thinner and paler as childhood illness had left him as frail and delicate as he appeared. (Another thing that made him different from his father and sister, as both looked fragile but both were very strong and occasionally intimidating people.) His short hair was brilliant gold, and his eyes were the most unusual golden color, something that set him apart. And like his uncle, he felt this unique look was a curse rather than a blessing. But he was happy to be compared to the man, as he had idolized him almost his entire life.

But the phsyical attributes were where the similarities between Seguchi Tokui and his uncle, Yuki Eiri, ended, as Tokui had a personality all his own. He was a very quiet, shy, and timid boy, easilly intimidated by his elders. He was also very secretive, more secretive then he had to be. Even little details about him, like his favorite color (blue), his favorite food (vanilla Pocky), or his date of birth (August 23) were like closely guarded secrets to the boy, and many of them not even his sister knew. He was also known to disappear to places unknown for hours at a time, and the mere fact he was leaving had be kept confidential.

If people were to look at them, no one would even think they were siblings, let alone twins, as they were so different in their personalities and their appearences. They even had different birthdates (Amai was born on August 22 at 11:57 PM and Tokui was born on August 23 at 12:04 AM) and were born under different astrological signs (Amai was a Leo and Tokui was a Virgo).

Amai put her hand on the gold-toned doorknob to her bedroom door. Her bedroom was very large and had a botanical theme, with mint green walls, a dark green plush carpet, and a green vine border across the top of the walls and surrounding the door. Her bed was queen sized and had a satin bedspread with a jungle of hunter green leaves covering it, and her bedside table and bookcase were both white but painted with the same green leaves as the border of her room. She also had a large TV, a rather extensive collection of DVDs, and a stereo with at least a hundred CDs. The centerpiece of her room, however, was the large picture window with it's green plush seating and plants hanging above it that overlooked the house's huge backyard.

Another difference between the twins was that while Amai's room was large, friendly, and colorful, Tokui's room was what Amai liked to call "the closet". Saying it was a closet was grossly innacurate, however, as it was actually a converted laundry room, downstairs on the main floor and tucked as far back from the rest of the house as possible. Tokui, being obsessive about his privacy, had turned down all of the four other bedrooms upstairs and insisted on this room, causing the laundry room to be relocated to the basement. His room was painted gray-blue, there was no carpet, and only a single dark blue throwrug over the cement floor. His bed was twin sized, and only had a simple light blue blanket. He also had a bookshelf, mostly covered with his uncle's books, and his only lights were a naked bulb hanging above the bed, a candle on the crate he used as a bedside table, and a flashlight that, along with his numerous medication bottles and two inhalers, he always had with him. But the most forboding thing about this room were the four locks on the door, two of which could also be locked from the outside and could only be unlocked with the keys Tokui always carried with him.

Though neither Touma nor Mika could explain their son's Spartan lifestyle, they also couldn't say they were too terribly surprised he would choose a small, dark, enclosed space over a larger, warmer, brighter one. After all, in the past he had been discovered in closets, pantries, vacant studios, or, failing to find such a space, dark corners. And he always had a book and his flashlight.

"I'll go down first. Give me five minutes. I'll have her moved into the kitchen and talking, so you should be able to sneak out the front door before anyone notices," Amai instructed, though it was unneccesary. Tokui had been through this drill many times before.

Amai opened the door and closed it, and Tokui lifted his right wrist, pushed up the sleeve of his very baggy black sweater, and looked at his watch to count down. (Another little known fact about Tokui, as he kept his watch hidden and never wrote anything if people were watching: he was left handed, one of the few traits besides his looks he had inherited from his uncle) Satisfied that five minutes were up, he began to slink silently down the stairs.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Tokui left his bicycle chained to a streetlight in front of a convenience store and took his inhaler out of the blue satchel he always carried, taking in two deep puffs and placing it back into the bag. He was still panting, and a few people were staring at him, but this was nothing new to him as he continued, on foot, for the last 15 minutes of his journey. (He always parked his bicycle between fifteen and twenty minutes walking distance from his final destination.)

He finally arrived at his destination and, still panting and wheezing (prompting him to take two more puffs from both of his inhalers) after scaling the stairs (elevators were too crowded and public and besides that, Tokui had a horrible phobia of them), finally forced himself to give the door he stood before two light taps, though he had a key. (He had six keys on the necklace he always wore around his neck but hid under his shirt: two for his bedroom, one to his mother's house, one to his father's house, one to his bicycle lock, and one to this apartment.)

It didn't take long for the door to open. Standing on the other side was a man, who, despite being well into his thirties by now, still looked as youthful and vibrant as ever, with his slightly-messy bright pink hair and glittering violet eyes, wearing nothing but a pair of blue shorts and a black tank-top, towel draped around his shoulders and pink toothbrush hanging from his mouth, obviously just getting ready to start the day though it was three in the afternoon.

He removed the toothbrush from his mouth as he looked over the visitor. "Tokui, you have a key. You don't have to knock, you know..." Shuichi said at last, before taking the boy into a friendly, one-armed embrace. "Now get in here and sit down. You look like you're going to faint."

Tokui nodded and obeyed, sitting on the couch in the large but sparsely decorated living room, as he had thousands of times before. He could rest assured that no matter what changed in the outside world, time could never touch this apartment or anyone inhabiting it. His uncle had changed very little appearence-wise in sixteen years (except for the barely noticeable touches of gray in his hair) and his uncle's lover hadn't changed at all, remaining the same one-armed, pink-haired, energetic man Tokui had always known him as.

"Yuki!" Shuichi shouted, disappearing into the hallway.

"Not now, Shuichi," came the almost growling reply.

"It's important!"

"It can wait."

"Tokui's here."

Those words seemed to touch something off in the other man, for when Shuichi returned (and headed straight for the kitchen) Yuki wasn't very far behind him.

Yuki looked the boy up and down. He was sitting on the corner of the couch furthest away from him, eyes pointed at his lap, where his hands were folded and almost invisable beneath his sweater sleeves. Yuki just sighed and sat on the opposite end of the couch. Years ago he would have lit a cigarette after sitting down, but after about three tries he'd kicked the habit completely about 12 years ago.

"Your mother know you're here?" Yuki asked.

Tokui shook his head.

"Your father?"

Another negative.

"Your sister, at the very least?"

Tokui shook his head a last time, his eyes starting to fill with tears again as he sensed he was in trouble.

Yuki sighed deeply. "For one thing, you have to tell someone where you're going. If not your parents or sister, at least call and tell us you're on your way so if something happens someone knows you're missing."

Tokui nodded.

Yuki continued. "And for another thing, try to find some other way of getting here. Call a cab, take a bus, use one of your father's drivers, anything. It takes you two hours to ride here on your bicycle, and you always leave it God-only-knows-where and walk the rest of the way here. You know you have asthma and chronic bronchitis, as well as weak joints. The doctor has told you a thousand times not to overexert yourself. When you come here you can't even breathe and your joints hurt so badly you can't move. And then you insist on riding you bicycle back home. One of these days you'll kill yourself that way. If I have to, I'll tell your mother to have someone guard you at all times and make sure you don't pull any stunts like these. Got it?"

A few tears slid down Tokui's cheeks as he swallowed and nodded. Shuichi entered the living room again, putting down a tray with three cups of tea on the coffee table and sitting next to the boy, taking him into another embrace.

"Yuki, you made him cry!" Shuichi scolded. "He's heard all that before. You should be flattered that he loves you enough to put himself in so much pain to get here."

"I am flattered, but I'm also worried!" Yuki argued. "He needs to learn that adults tell him things for a reason, and if he's going to comprimise his health and possibly his life by coming here, then if he wants to continue coming here he needs to have someone give him a ride. He knows he's always welcome here, whether we're here or not, but he shouldn't have to kill himself to get here!"

Shuichi took his arm from around Tokui and picked up a cup of tea. "Here, drink this. It'll make you feel better."

Tokui hesitantly took the cup, and took a few small sips. "G-Gomen nasai, Eiri-ojisan," he said at last. "And arigatou, Sh-Shindou-san."

It was Shuichi's turn to sigh in exhasperation. "Tokui, you've known me all your life. I was just upstairs from you when you were born. I saw you when you were four days old. I was the fourth person to ever hold you, after the doctor, your father and your uncle. Call me Shuichi. Or better yet, call me Shuichi-ojisan, since I've been with your uncle long enough."

"Gomen nasai, Shindou-san."

Shuichi sighed and Yuki put his forehead in his hand and sighed, shaking his head. Tokui just sipped some more tea before placing his cup back on the tray.

"Tokui, are you planning on staying for dinner?" Shuichi asked. The boy only shrugged slightly, still staring at his feet.

"Shuichi, make enough for him. Tokui, lay down on the couch and take a nap. Shuichi and I have something we need to do in the office. It shouldn't take longer than a couple of minutes," Yuki instructed, standing and stretching. Shuichi looked confused, but he stood up and followed the blonde man into the office. He was surprised when Yuki shut the door behind them.

"What's going on?" Shuichi asked, looking at Yuki's narrow golden-hazel eyes, which told him nothing, as always.

Yuki sighed and sat down in his desk chair. "I think I'm going to have to call his father."

Shuichi walked over to the desk, leaning on the phone before Yuki could try to pick it up. "No! You can't do that!" Shuichi cried. "We're probably the only people he trusts! We can't betray him like that!"

"We can't let him kill himself, either!" Yuki argued. "Shuichi, Tokui is sick! Not just physically, either! And if I don't call Touma and tell him then Tokui is going to end up dead, and I know I don't want that!"

"We've tried talking to Seguchi-san before! And Mika-san, too!" Shuichi pointed out. "All Mika-san does is get tougher on him, and all Seguchi-san does is coddle him! They aren't helping! The least we can do is give him someplace where he can feel safe and comfortable!"

"Funny to hear you talking about coddling him, since all you ever do is wait on him hand and foot!" Yuki pointed out.

"That's not what I meant!" Shuichi cried out. He took his hand off the phone and looked down at the floor. "Yuki, first, let's stop fighting before one of us says something we'll regret later."

"Fine," Yuki said with a nod. He reached over to pick up the phone, but Shuichi once again leaned on it.

"And secondly, calling his parents will get him no where and will get us out of his good graces. I agree that we have to do something, but not that," Shuichi said pointedly. It was uncharacteristically mature for him, but, as Yuki had discovered long ago, the other man did have his moments...

"After that, I'm out of ideas," Yuki muttered, spinning around to face his computer screen. "Short of having him commited, anyway, but that wouldn't help matters, either."

Shuichi sat down in the chair he had placed next to Yuki's desk chair years ago. "No, that wouldn't. But if he keeps coming here, then it sounds like he just wants to be closer to people he trusts. Maybe if we can have him move in with someone he trusts completely he won't keep running away and hurting himself."

Yuki leaned back in his chair. "But where? He can't stay here. I mean, I love Tokui. He's my nephew, and I watched him grow up. I'm more of a father to him than Touma is. And his invitation to come here is twenty-four hours a day. But I can't take care of him full time. He needs constant medical care, he needs to see a psychiatrist, and he won't eat or sleep unless he is ordered to."

Shuichi tried not to flinch when Yuki said that he loved his nephew. He knew that it wasn't in a romantic sense, but the fact he could say it so easily about Tokui but, even after almost seventeen years and a near-death encounter, still couldn't say it to him except for once in a blue moon (and usually in his sleep) still stung him. Shuichi had told Yuki years ago that he understood what they had had extended beyond the need to reassure themselves with the "l" word, and that if Yuki didn't want to say it then he never had to and Shuichi would understand, but sometimes he just wished to hear it, even if it was just for comformation that they really had what he thought they had.

"Well, where else does he go when he runs away?" Shuichi asked at last, leaning on his only arm on the table.

"The NG building. People are always finding him in closets, empty studios, unused offices, and even dark corners of otherwise occupied rooms. Touma actually gives whoever finds him and sends him to his office a substantial cash reward," Yuki explained. "But he can't live there, obviously. And since he doesn't go there to be near his father, having him live with Touma full time is out of the question."

"Then I guess we're stuck," Shuichi said softly, leaning against Yuki. "I want to help him, but I don't know how."

Yuki sighed. "I don't, either. All I know is that right now he's supposed to be out in the living room waiting for us to finish doing whatever important errand we were supposed to be doing."

"500 yen says he's not in the living room when we walk out there," Shuichi said challengingly, standing up.

"Please, that's practically a given. Leave him alone for more than five seconds and he disappears."

They walked out of the office and into the living room. Sure enough, the boy was gone. Yuki just sighed and sat on the couch as Shuichi went into the kitchen to finish their evening meal.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~

It only took Tokui another ten minutes on his bicycle to reach the towering NG Records Headquarters, his father's record industry empire. Of course, he left his bicycle chained to a sign and obscured by bushes and, though he could have just walked in whenever he pleased, he managed to slip in through an open window that lead to an empty rehearsal room and from there, after looking around the halls to make sure no one was looking, began to dart toward the stairwell.

"Not so fast!" a familiar voice that froze him in his tracks called out.

Tokui pressed himself against the wall and looked at his sister, who, though smiling and standing in a semi-relaxed pose, had a look that demanded to know where he had been and how long he'd been there.

"I left that window open on purpose," Amai told him. "I knew you'd come in through that way. All I had to do was hide in the rehearsal room accross the hall and wait for you to take the bait. Fortunately, I'm a patient person." She approached him, taking his sachel and removing his inhaler, handing it to him. "Take this. You're weezing."

Tokui gratefully took the medicine and breathed in two deep puffs, finally managing to breathe normally. "You're not going to tell Tousan, are you?" he asked nervously.

Amai shook her head as she opened her brother's sachel and began to look through his belongings. "Wouldn't dream of it," she said softly as she examined the items. She finally removed a book. "This is one of Eiri-ojisan's books, ne?"

Tokui nervously reached for his sachel and book, but Amai jerked them both out of the way. "Ooooh, I've read this one before!" She looked at him, an almost sadistic grin spreading across her face. "Want me to show you where all the dirty parts are?"

Tokui finally grabbed the items back, putting the book back into the sachel. "N-no! That's not why I read them!" he cried nervously.

Amai just sighed and looked at her watch. "You're no fun. Look, I'm supposed to be rehearsing in ten minutes in rehearsal room five on the second floor. That means if you want to get a headstart and hide from Tousan and my manager, you'd better get running now."

"Arigatou," Tokui said, bowing slightly before darting toward the stairwell again.

Amai just rolled her eyes and walked in the direction of the elevator.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Seguchi Touma leaned back in his desk chair, dark green eyes fixed on the folder he was holding in his right hand, and fingers of his left hand drumming on the arm of his chair, his legs crossed and his entire body, though relaxed, could give one the feeling that, if neccessary, he would pounce on them like a lion in tall grass and devour them at a moment's notice, even with his delicate (and, as people who had seen his daughter would be quick to note, feminine) features and babyface.

And as Touma definately didn't look pleased at the moment, he seemed much more intimidating then he usually did. He finally sat the folder onto the desk and leaned forward, resting on his elbows and steepling his fingers in front of his mouth, tapping his index fingers in thought. Finally, he stared directly at the man in the neatly pressed black buisness suit before him, quickly scanning his dark eyes for any signs of being unnerved. Sure enough, the man was nervous.

Touma sighed and opened the folder again. "I'm not impressed, Nakano-san," he said at last to the man most knew as Hiro of Bad Luck fame. "Not impressed at all. I suppose this is partially my fault, giving you an assignment that I had so much personal stake in, but if you had done your job correctly then my relationship with your assignment wouldn't be an issue."

Hiro just nodded. He'd known this day was a long time in coming, but he'd never expected he'd be so nervous when it finally came.

"Nakano-san," Touma said at last after reviewing the contents of the folder again. "I expect a certain level of quality in the performance of my employees. You're an intelligent man, you're talented, and you know the music industry like the back of your hand. I had very high expectations when I hired you back to NG after your contract expired as a manager, hence I trusted you with handling my daughter's career."

"I understand that, Seguchi-san. And I am doing the best job I can with the resources I have available to me," Hiro explained.

Touma stood up and began to walk to the front of his desk. "I dislike managers who don't actually manage anything, Nakano-san. Why do you think I fired Sakano-san as yours and hired Mr. K? When Grasper was formed- and pardon me for waxing nostalgic- our manager was spineless. He was only kept as a matter of formality. I did all the work. And I don't want Amai to have to go through that. You know how difficult it is to be a musician. She shouldn't have to worry about picking up the slack her manager left."

Touma walked around behind Hiro, staring at his long red ponytail. "I am not expecting you to be as aggressive as Mr. K was, though I will add that it was his aggressive nature that made him such a great manager. He got the job done no matter what he had to do, and I was actually sad to see him go. I am not expecting you to be up to par with him at all. However, you know how cutthroat the music buisness is. You have to be at the least moderately aggressive, even go beyond legal and moral boundries once in a while to accomplish that final goal: fame. Glory. A number one album. Unfortunately, while you have yourself together, you are too hell-bent on staying within the rules. And that just doesn't cut it in your line of work."

Touma walked back around to face the other man. "That's why, as of today, you are reassigned."

"Excuse me?" Hiro asked, taken off guard. He'd expected to be fired, not given another charge.

"Reassigned," Touma repeated, stepping behind his desk and flipping the pages in the folder until he found another paper. "You have potential, but I am aware that giving you my own daughter is out of your league. She has too many traits that I have, for one thing, and for another thing I am naturally going to want more for her than with the other acts that are currently signed with NG, so even if you aren't doing as bad a job as I am making it sound I can't see that. So, to accurately gauge your abilities, I am going to give you a new assignment, one I have no personal involvment with."

"Should I notify Shuichi?" Hiro asked, still stunned and relieved that he got to keep his job.

"No. Unlike most meetings, he's absent from this one because I didn't ask for him to be here. He isn't being reassigned," Touma explained. "Though he has trouble showing up to meetings on time, if he bothers to show up at all, by some fluke or sheer dumb luck he has managed to perform all of his duties and do a superb job in the process. While I still think Sakano-san was a better producer, sadly he is also no longer working for the company,, so I have to make do with what I have."

"Seguchi-san, I am not asking you to give me an undeserved promotion or Shuichi an undeserved demotion, but with all do respect Shuichi can't function without me. That dumb luck you are talking about is me performing his duties and, as a result, neglecting my own," Hiro explained.

"Nakano-san, I am not reassigning Shindou-san. If what you say is true, then I'll see you in your true light and promote you justly and, if neccessary, demote Shindou-san or terminate his employment all together. I'd rather have one employee who does a good job than two who do a mediocre job," Touma said firmly as he sat back down. "Now, as for your new assignment, this will definately be a challenge of your abilities, and I hope to see you rise to the challenge." He shuffled through the papers in his folder again, before taking a pen from the pocket of his suit and making a mark on the paper before him. "He is actually Chinese, for one. His name is Chen Quon Yue. He has great talent as a vocalist, however, and wishes to pursue a solo career here in Japan, so you have two challenges: make him famous despite him being foreign, and make him famous as a solo artist. He also seems to have a habit of crossdressing that you will most likely have to break him of. Either that, or turn it into a gimmick, as even if you can keep him from doing it on stage, if the press catches it offstage his career is over before it began. This assignment will decide if you are worthy of your position. If you can make Chen Quon Yue even a moderate success, I'll think about reassigning you to Amai. Until then, you'll meet your new producer when you meet your assignment. And tell Shindou-san he'll be working with a new manager. Now, I do believe you have one final rehearsal with Amai to attend to."

Hiro sighed and bowed slightly. "Yes, Seguchi-san." He turned to leave the office, but before he could touch the door Touma's voice stopped him.

"And Nakano-san, if you happen to find my son anywhere in the building, send him to my office," Touma instructed.

"Of course," Hiro said.

As soon as Hiro was out of the room, Touma pressed a button, activating the intercom between him and his receptionist. "Sako, please send Sakano-san up."

~*~*~*~*~*~*~

"So, this is really it?" Amai asked, leaning against the table. "I can't believe Tousan would assign me a new manager without asking me. I really like working with you guys..."

Hiro shrugged. "It wasn't my call. If you can talk to your father and try to get me my old job back, it'd be great, but I think I am stuck managing the Chinese guy for a while."

Amai shrugged. "Well, I'm daddy's little girl. I'll see what I can do. By the way, did he happen to ask about my brother?"

"Doesn't he always?"

"True. Even when he finds him he doesn't do anything, though..."

Amai walked to the door of the rehearsal room. "Well, until I see you again, since I assume I'll still see you around..."

"Yes, of course," Hiro muttered, opening his briefcase. Amai slipped out of the room and shut the door behind her, leaving him alone completely.

Hiro looked around the room, hoping to find another sheet of paper. Finding none, he walked over to the closet to get some from the pile usually kept in there for such emergencies. But as soon as he opened the door, he jumped. Crouched inside, holding a flashlight and a book, was the black-clad figure of Seguchi Tokui.

As soon as Hiro's breathing returned to normal, he realized the boy was staring at him. "Tokui, you scared me!"

"Gomen nasai, Nakano-san," he said softly. Hiro could see the boy was blushing. "You're not going to tell Tousan, are you?"

Hiro sighed and shook his head. "No. I'm not. Even though I'm already on his bad side without withholding information on the whereabouts of his son. But dammit, you scared the hell out of me!"

"Gomen nasai," he said again, putting his book in his sachel. "I'll move."

"No, you don't have to. I was leaving, anyway," Hiro explained. "Unless you have a rule about changing hiding places once the one you are currently in is discovered."

Tokui slowly pulled himself to his feet and shook his head. This wasn't the first time the pair had run into each other in this fashion. Despite the fact that most NG employees actively searched for Tokui to claim the reward for returning him to his father, Hiro had the highest success rate in finding him. It was so high, in fact, Hiro was sure that his running into the small blonde teenager so often wasn't mere coincidence.

Hiro ruffled the boy's hair before he turned and picked up his briefcase. He still had to tell Shuichi the bad news, after all....

~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Tokui stood in the closet for a long moment after Hiro left, expecting him to return. Hoping he'd return. But, resigning to the fact that he wasn't going to return, Tokui looked out into the hallway, before darting over to the staircase, sachel in hand. He managed to sneak out the way he'd come in and get on his bike. It was getting dark, and he wanted to make it back to Yuki and Shuichi's apartment before it became too dark.

Tokui was getting short of breath, and he knew he was still blushing. He prayed that Hiro hadn't seen him blush. Nakano Hiroshi was the only person on earth that Seguchi Tokui allowed to find him. And Nakano Hiroshi was the only person on earth who could engage Seguchi Tokui in real conversation for any great length of time.

And the reason was because Seguchi Tokui was hoplessly in love with Nakano Hiroshi.

And he'd do anything to fall back out of it....

End of Chapter One


	2. Near and Far

Disclaimer- Same as it ever was... (Whoever gets where that comes from gets a free "I Am a Child of the Eighties" button.)

Heart's Façade

Chapter Two: Near and Far

Written by A Girl Named Goo

"Well, I guess it sucks to be you," Shuichi announced at last. It was the first thing he had said for close to a minute, upon hearing the news that Hiro had been reassigned. He leaned further back in the booth, picking up a fry and chewing on it.

"That's it?" Hiro asked, raising an eyebrow. He'd expected more of a response from the smaller, pink-haired man in the rumpled, too-large gray buisness suit (which had once belonged to him) than an indifferent statement.

"What do you want me to do? Burst into tears?" Shuichi asked, fry sticking out of his mouth.

"Well, yes. That's what the old Shuichi would have done," Hiro pointed out.

Shuichi finished his fry and sighed, drumming his fingers on the table in front of him. "No, actually, the 'old Shuichi' wouldn't have because, emotional as 'old Shuichi' was, he would have realized it's not like he is being seperated from you forever. So we work in different offices at different times and have different touring schedules. We can still see each other outside of work, right? Or did Seguchi-san also forbid you from ever seeing me again or we'll both lose our jobs? If that's the case, I will start crying and I'll quit my job."

"So you don't care?" Hiro asked in disbelief.

"I didn't say that! I do care! But there's nothing I can do about it, now, is there? Seguchi-san hates me. He always has and he always will. My advice is to shape up so you can get reassigned again if you want to work with me."

"You want me to shape up?! The only reason it looks like I'm doing a bad job is because I'm always pulling your ass out of the fire!"

"That's bullshit and you know it!" Shuichi snapped. "You only think you have to do everything for me. I've changed, Hiro. I've grown up. True, I have trouble keeping track of dates and times, but other than that I am much more disciplined! You're the one with the problem!"

"Excuse me?!" Hiro fumed. "What the hell kind of problem do I have?!"

"You're obsessed, for one!" was the angry retort. "Your personal life has gone down the shit hole, and now your professional life is threatening to do the same thing. So what do you do? You try to 'help' me and 'protect' me and 'defend' me because I'm about the only person left for you to help and protect and defend. You've been trying for seventeen years to get me to leave Yuki when it was Yuki that taught me to grow up and learn to do things myself, and I can't thank him enough. Remember what I was like after my accident? If I'd relied on you to take care of me, I'd still be in a wheelchair with you waiting on me hand and foot. But Yuki was forceful. He made me go through physical therapy, and when we got home he still pressed me to do things because he knew I could. Now I can do all the things I did before my accident and more. Hiro, you think you have my best interests in mind, but it's your own that you have in mind! You're lonely and desperate and as long as I need someone- or you think I need someone- then you have a purpose in my life."

"I am not obsessed with you!" Hiro snapped back. "Yeah, I do feel the need to look out for you and yeah, I do hate seeing you in pain. And I do dislike Yuki. While I'll admit if it wasn't for him being so hard on you you probably never would have recovered, to this day I think he only did it so you could return to being his personal maid. But all you two do is fight! Seventeen years after meeting him and you still come to me crying because Yuki said something or did something or didn't say or do something...that doesn't sound like a storybook romance to me. You can do better, Shuichi. Much better."

Shuichi leaned back in the booth. "Maybe I can. But I don't want to. We've been through this before, Hiro: our relationship is complicated, but we love each other. We don't want or need anyone else. Besides, after we fight he apologizes. He's never really hurt me. I personally don't see a problem. I think the problem is that you can't face the fact that it's time for you to move on, so rather than worrying about finding a new relationship for yourself you concentrate on ruining mine. Ayaka is happilly married with four kids now, and Fujisaki probably won't be coming back from America any time soon. They've moved on. Why can't you? You need to get out there and start dating again. Meet new people. Give romance another try. Third time's a charm, after all."

Hiro leaned forward over his food, taking off his sunglasses and rubbing his eyes. "I know, deep down inside, you're right. About me needing to start dating again, that is. I still think you should ditch the dead weight and hit the singles circuit yourself, but since telling you so would be wasting my breath I'll refrain."

"Thank you."

"But it just hurts so much to think about it. Every time I start to care about someone, start to get really serious, they go away, You're the only person in my life who is really consistant. We've done everything together. You said it yourself over seventeen years ago: you and I are Bad Luck. No one else. Not even Suguru. Even when we're not making music we're a team. And I just kinda took it for granted we always would be."

"We still are a team!" Shuichi cried defensively. "You're still my better half! You're my best friend, Hiro, and you always will be!" Shuichi walked to the other side of the booth and sat next to him, leaning over to give him a one-armed embrace. "I guess it's one of those 'I love you, but I'm not in love with you' things. You and Yuki are tied as being the two most important people in my life, and if I lost either one of you I don't know what I'd do. Besides, we have so much history together I don't think we can not be friends at this point."

"Hypothetically speaking, if I asked you to give up Yuki to date me, would you do it?" Hiro asked.

Shuichi looked up, trying to see if he was kidding. While he didn't appear to be joking, he didn't look serious, either. "Hypothetically speaking, no," he answered at last. "I don't know why you'd ask me to do that. We established years ago that even if we do sometimes 'play' with each other, we are just really close friends, and that's it, so don't try to spring it on me that you love me now. The only other reason I can see that you'd ask me to do that is because you are really desperate to get me away from Yuki, in which case even if I did do that it would never ever work."

Hiro buried his face in Shuichi's strawberry-scented hair and sighed contededly. "Going to be weird going on a tour without you, though. How will I ever pass the time?"

"Maybe Fujisaki told Seguchi-san about our little 'activites' and that's the real reason you were reassigned."

"Want to spend the night at my place? For old time's sake?"

"No can do. After Bad Luck disbanded- the official Bad Luck, anyway, as we live on- I swore myself to monogamy. Yuki and I were both sick of getting jealous every time I went on tour, thinking about who the other was with. Besides, I'm older. My sex drive isn't running at top speed anymore."

"But everything else is..."

Shuichi giggled and buried himself deeper in his best friend's chest. "I love you, Hiro. But in a run-into-a-burning-building-and-risk-my life-to-save-you sense, not a will-you-be-my-Valentine sense."

"Works for me."

~*~*~*~*~*~*~

It was ten o'clock at night when Shuichi dragged himself home. The house was dark except for a dim light over the kitchen sink and the light of the television. Yuki was sitting on one end of the couch, and there was a lump wrapped in blankets on the other end, facing away from the rest of the house.

"When did he come back?" Shuichi asked, knowing it was Tokui under the blankets.

"Right after you left. I called Mika and told her he was staying here, and I'm going to rig up a trap to make sure he doesn't try to leave early in the morning," Yuki explained.

"A trap? How do you propose to do that?" Shuichi asked curiously.

Yuki stood up and left the room for a second. When he returned he was carrying five pieces of thread, each one with a little bell tied to it. He opened the door to the apartment, draped them over the top of the door, then shut it before they could hit the floor on the other side. "If he tries to open that door, they'll hit the floor and we'll wake up. Or I will. You can sleep through a low-flying B-52 flying overhead. Can and have. Even if I don't wake up, it should startle him enough to send him back into the house."

"That, or scare him so much he makes a mad dash for the stairs," Shuichi pointed out.

"That's unlikely. He likes to run away, but he doesn't like people to know when he's leaving. If he even thinks we heard those bells, he'll give it up and try again later."

Shuichi suddenly threw his arm around Yuki. "Yuki, you're so smart!"

Yuki looked down at Shuichi. "You smell like aftershave."

"I was with Hiro tonight. Nothing to get jealous about."

"Knowing what you do with Hiro?"

"What I used to do. I am all your's now. He had to tell me something important about work so we met at a restaurant to discuss it."

"That doesn't explain why you smell like aftershave."

"Just an innocent little hug! I'm trying to get Hiro to date again. He's lonely and I have to suffer for it."

Yuki sighed. "Take a shower before you come to bed. I don't like sleeping with you when you smell like another man."

"Can I sleep on your back?" Shuichi asked, sounding like an excited child who had just been offered an ice cream cone.

"By all means. Just be careful where you sleep this time. I don't know where you were or what you did last time, but I woke up with a horrible pain in the middle of my back."

Shuichi leaned up against Yuki. "Aww...should have told me. I would have given you a massage."

"Go take a shower. Now."

"Then can we fool around?"

"While Tokui's here?"

"Okay. Scratch that."

With that, Shuichi retreated to the bathroom. 

~*~*~*~*~*~*~

It was the early morning hours when Yuki hears the bells clattering to the floor. A quick glance at the clock indicated that it was about five in the morning, just after the break of dawn. With a slight groan, Yuki began the difficult task of detaching Shuichi's arm from around his waist and removing him from where he was laying on his back, with his head rested between his shoulderblades. He rolled Shuichi over so he was laying on his back on the bed, covered him up, then grabbed a pair of sweatpants to put on over his boxers, quickly slipping them on and walking into the living room.

Tokui must have slammed the door behind him when the bells scared him, though Yuki hadn't heard it. Now he was pressed up against the door, his arms braced in the doorframe, hyperventilating. Yuki walked over to the boy, opened his sachel for him, and handed him his inhaler, which he eagerly tore from his hand, taking in two deep inhalations of medicine. When his breathing slowed again, he put it back with the rest of his medicine.

"G-Gomen nasai, Eiri-ojisan," he whispered, still shaking slightly.

"Sit down on the couch. And take your medicine. You can't have taken it already this morning," Yuki ordered. He walked into the kitchen, opened the door, and grabbed a can of Shuichi's soda, putting it on the coffee table in front of the shivering teen.

It took some effort for Tokui to open the can. After succeeding, he took out a plastic pill caddy and opened up the slot for Thursday morning. No fewer than eight pills were in there, and he took one after another, following each with a swallow of soda. The can was almost empty by the time he finished taking his medication, and he put the caddy back into his bag.

Once, years ago, Yuki could have listed what each pill was for. Since his birth, his nephew had seemed to be cursed with every disease known to man, plagued with a slew of nuerological, respiratory, cardiovascular, muscular, and digestive problems as well as anemia and a severe allergy to many foods, and had almost died twice in his life. When he had been born two months premature, he was the smaller and weaker twin, underdeveloped because his sister had grown more rapidly than he had. He had stayed in the hospital almost a year, and it had taken five months before anyone could hold him. That was the first time he had nearly died. He'd actually been declared dead at one point when doctors failed to revive him, but suddenly, miraculously, his heart had began to beat again.

And when he was two he was once again struck down by illness. His heart and lungs had nearly given out, and he'd spent the better part of three years in the hospital, missing his chance to go to school with his sister or to go outside and make friends. Yuki had a feeling that it was these years without social interaction that had turned him into the timid creature he was today, though his sneaky nature and preference for small, enclosed spaces couldn't be as easily explained.

School had been chalked up as a failed experiment. He hadn't actually gone to school until he was twelve, and he kept hiding in the corners, refusing to sit at his desk or answer the teachers. Students would torment him endlessly, further ruining his opinion of other people, and if it wasn't for his sister he probably would have been driven to self-destruction. This was probably when he learned to sneak around, and even at school he was found in closets all the time. Finally deciding that Tokui would never be able to function in a school environment, Touma took him out (against Mika's wishes, though she couldn't deny it was better for him) and re-hired the tutor he had had when he was sick. (A female tutor, Yuki had noted when he'd first met her.)

"It's rude to take advantage of our hospitality and leave without at least saying good bye," Yuki said at last. The sun was rising quickly now, and he wished he was back in his bed more than anything else.

"Gomen nasai," Tokui whispered again.

"Don't apologize," Yuki ordered. "If you would listen to what I told you in the first place you wouldn't need to apologize. Now, if you want to go home, I'll give you a ride. If you want to go to NG, then wait until Shuichi wakes up and he'll take you when Nakano-san comes to pick him up. And if you don't want to go to either of those places, then why the hell were you sneaking out?"

"I don't know," Tokui whispered, his eyes filling with tears again. He seemed to shrink under his uncle's golden gaze.

"If you don't know where you want to go, then why the hell are you leaving? Why are you trying to kill yourself for no apparent reason? I've kind of grown accustomed to having you around, Tokui, and I don't want to have to bury you at age sixteen."

At that moment, Shuichi walked out of the bedroom, wearing his boxers and one of Yuki's old T-shirts. He stretched and yawned. "Okay, what gives? It's five in the morning."

"Tokui was trying to sneak out again," Yuki said, though he was glaring at Tokui when he said it. "I'm trying to talk some sense into him."

"At five in the morning? Can't you just tie him up and come back to bed for a few hours?" Shuichi muttered, throwing himself onto the couch next to Tokui. Tokui was looking at him fearfully. Noticing this, Shuichi sighed. "I'm kidding, Tokui. But it is too early for this..."

Yuki walked further into the living room and sat in his favorite chair with Shuichi leaning against the back of it. "You said it's five, Shuichi?"

"Well, closer to five-thirty..."

Yuki suddenly stood. "Touma usually arrives at NG at seven sharp, so he should still be home-"

"Yuki, no!" Shuichi cried. "Don't call his father!"

Tokui leaned further into the couch. Shuichi always sided with him, which made Tokui feel he was partially to blame for his uncle's problems with his lover, but Amai had assured him that, according to their father, their relationship had been rocky (to say the least) from the very beginning, and that what they had now was actually an improvement. "Marital troubles" was the term Amai used, usually followed by a snicker, though Tokui knew (mostly from overheard conversations) that most people DID think of his uncle and Shuichi as a married couple. (Amai had also said something about how Shuichi was an Aries and Yuki was a Pisces, two signs that usually had trouble working together, in the same breath that she mentioned Leo and Virgo didn't work well together.)

"I'm not going to call him," Yuki said. Both Shuichi and Tokui looked confused at this remark. "I was trying to think of where Tokui could possibly be going this early in the morning. NG's doors never open to anyone but security guards before Touma arrives. Not even Tokui could get through."

"So what are you going to do with him?" Shuichi asked softly, dreading the answer.

"I'm sending him to NG with you when Nakano comes to pick you up. And you and Amai are both going to keep an eye on him at all times. Then, when you come home, you're bringing him with you. In the meantime, I am going to call his parents. He's going to be staying here for a while. That way he is already here so he doesn't have to kill himself coming here, and he can get rides with you to and from NG. It will give his health a chance to improve and teach him not to be so secretive about everything. And to make sure he doesn't sneak out, I am going to install a security system. And I'm not going to give him the code. If he wants to come in or go out he has to ask one of us," Yuki explained cooly.

Shuichi wasn't sure if Yuki was serious, considering what he had said the day before. Perhaps the early hour was preventing him from thinking clearly...

"Yuki, you can't be serious," Shuichi said softly. "You can't take care of him. WE can't take care of him. We're both so busy. We can hardly give him enough attention as it is."

"I've been thinking long and hard about this, Shuichi," Yuki confirmed. "It's not the best solution, but the only one I can find. If either one of his parents wants to take extra steps, then they are free to do so. But until they stop worrying about their son's eccentricities and start worrying about his health I really do think this is the only thing that can be done. I'm sorry, Tokui, but unless you can prove to us that you're going to put aside your need to ridiculously secretive and you're going to start doing things with concern for your health, I am going to have to be firm on you."

Tokui was speechless. Of all the things he'd expected his uncle to do, this was about the last, and he was having mixed emotions about the whole arrangement. On the one hand, he would always be close to his uncle, who he idolized and regarded as his mentor, and would be near Shuichi, who always lavished him with attention and did many things for him, something that felt nice after years of exile, both involuntary and self-imposed. But on the other hand, his freedom would be gone. No coming and going between his parents' houses, his uncle's apartment, and NG whenever he wished, no sneaking away when people weren't looking, no hiding himself in a rehearsal room closet so he could hear Nakano-san's wonderful voice...

That last thought suddenly struck him cold. Hiro was Shuichi's best friend. They got together often, at both of their apartments (usually at Hiro's apartment, since the man couldn't stand his best friend's lover), and Hiro gave Shuichi a ride to work (in his car, since he had kept his motorcycle safely stored away with his guitar since leaving his rock star life behind) every day and would now be giving Tokui rides. It was one thing being close to the man when he knew he couldn't see him, but to actually be there, right out in the open...the thought made him both nervous and excited.

"Any protests, Tokui?" Yuki asked, as if the boy had a choice. He was rather surprised at this reaction, as it seemed that the boy wanted to live in this apartment, even at the cost of his freedom.

"What about me?" Shuichi asked. "I love Tokui right to death, but I can't take care of him! And neither can you! I thought you were the one who didn't want kids, Yuki."

"Is that what you're really mad about, Shuichi?" Yuki asked, rolling his eyes slightly. "You think I'm being a hypocrite because when you wanted to adopt I put my foot down, but I'm willing to take care of Tokui. Well, Tokui's a little different. For one, he's a teenager. He can pretty much take care of himself, even though he needs a little push in the right direction every now and then. And for another thing, he's family. I am not going to sit back and watch my flesh and blood hurt and kill himself. I thought you'd be happy at the chance to take care of him full time."

Suddenly, it became clear why Amai (and everyone else) seemed to enjoy comparing the two to a married couple to Tokui: the way they argued, the way they acted around each other, the things they talked about and fought about- they were all things that were to be expected of a man and a woman who had been married for about twenty years, not two men who were only live-in lovers. Of course, the fact that they had had seventeen years to get to know each other and learn each other's quirks might have had something to do with it....

Shuichi put his arm over Yuki's shoulder, leaning down to nuzzle his cheek slightly. "I just wonder if there would be enough time for us, that's all,"

Yuki sighed slightly before turning his head and lightly brushing a kiss against his lover's lips. "There will be plenty of time for us. If anything, having someone else around could help us. The longer we're here alone the more we fight. If someone else is here we have to get along."

Shuichi walked around to the front of the chair, placing himself in Yuki's lap so that he could kiss him easier. At first, neither seemed to notice Tokui sitting just across the room, but after a few moments Yuki broke away. "Shuichi, we've got a guest."

Tokui almost old them that he didn't mind. In fact, he enjoyed watching them kiss, though usually he had to hide and watch them do it secretly. He liked to watch them do many things: kiss, sleep together, and once he'd even watched them being intimate (on a night where they didn't even know he was in the house). He envied them greatly and wished there was someone who could do those things with him. Sometimes he fantasized about doing those things with Nakano-san, but they were just fantasies, and nothing more.

Shuichi sighed and put a kiss on Yuki's cheek. "Well, if I'm not going to go back to bed, I might as well take a shower and make breakfast."

~*~*~*~*~*~*~

"So he's really going to be living with you?" Hiro asked, gesturing with his head toward the back seat, where Tokui was curled up, as if he thought doing so would cause him to disappear. And probably wishing that would happen.

"That's what Yuki says. I don't know if he means it or not, but he sounded serious," Shuichi confirmed. He was wearing another one of Hiro's old suits, only this one was dark blue. After retiring from singing, Shuichi had been abruptly forced to "grow up". Unfortunately, with the wardrobe he had, he wasn't able to dress for the part, and had began to raid Yuki and Hiro's closets for clothes that they no longer wore. Now, five years later, he still chose to wear the clothes of the two men that mattered most to him rather than buy his own, even if he had to pin the sleeves of all of them up.

"Well, considering that he isn't one to joke, let alone about something like that, and he isn't the kind of person who rushes into things, I think he means it," Hiro pointed out.

Shuichi sighed and leaned back in the car seat. "Today you're supposed to meet that guy you're managing, right?"

"Right," Hiro said with a nod, turning the car into NG's parking garage. He held up his pass to the attendant, who nodded and raised the gate. "And you'll meet Amai's new manager."

"Fun," Shuichi muttered as Hiro eased his car into a parking space. He opened his door, leaning against the vehicle as he waited for Hiro and Tokui to exit. He forced Tokui to get in front of him before he and Hiro began their trek into the NG building.

"You need to get a haircut," Hiro observed, tugging a lock of bright pink hair playfully.

"Look whose talking," Shuichi retorted, giving Hiro's ponytail a playful yank.

"I have always had long hair. It's expected of me. But you just look like a bum who is too cheap to buy his own clothes and get a haircut," Hiro explained.

"I think you'd look good with short hair."

"I think you'd look good with black hair."

"All right! All right! After work I'll call for an appointment, but you're taking me. The least you can do is trim those split ends..."

"I don't have split ends!"

"Then what's this?" Shuichi asked, lifting up Hiro's ponytail to show him what he was looking at.

Hiro grabbed his hair and examined the end. "Dear lord, I have split ends..."

"See? Now we both need a trim."

Tokui was facing the asphalt-paved ground, looking as if he was heading toward his execution. He couldn't slip away or run, because not only would Shuichi no longer trust him, but it wouldn't impress Hiro much. Besides, he liked hearing the two men joke. He had always felt the pair had an ideal relationship, and he could tell that Hiro was protective of his best friend. From bits and pieces of conversations he had overheard, when Shuichi was younger he had gotten himself into a great deal of trouble, and it was often Hiro's job to pick up the pieces when it was over or get him back out of it. About the only thing keeping this man from being absolutely perfect in the blonde teen's mind was that he hated Yuki, for no reason that Tokui could figure out. He knew that his uncle was a cold man and at times difficult to like, but that didn't give anyone an excuse to flat-out hate him.

They approached the door to the main part of the building, stepping in. A receptionist looked up as the group walked in, nodded, then resumed looking at her magazine. They continued until they reached a corridor, when Shuichi suddenly embraced Hiro tightly.

"Don't leave me!" he cried out. "I can't work without you!"

"There's the Shuichi I know and love..." Hiro muttered as he detached his best friend from from his body. "It's just like you said yesterday, Shuichi: we'll still see each other after work and in the halls."

Shuichi detached himself from Hiro and smoothed down the front of his clothes. "Sorry. Don't know what got into me. Guess I got up too early today. Come, Tokui, you're sister and whoever this new manager person is are upstairs waiting for us."

Shuichi walked down the hall and was about to step on an elevator when Tokui grabbed his sleeve. "I'm afraid of elevators," he whispered softly. "Could we p-please take the stairs?"

Shuichi sighed and headed toward the stairwell, leaving Hiro alone to head in the direction of Seguchi Touma's office.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Seguchi Touma was late.

This was not something entirely unheard of, as the man was known to be a tad late from time to time, being the busy man that he was, even if he arrived at his office at the same time every single day like clockwork and would do so probably until the day he died, which, at the rate he was aging, probably wouldn't be for another two-hundred years.

And the fact that Hiro had to wait in his boss's office didn't bother him. It was the fact that he wasn't waiting alone that was....

A woman, about Hiro's age if not a little younger, in a neatly-pressed dark red skirt suit, pink shirt, and black high heels and tie was standing in front of Touma's desk. Her hair was brown and neatly trimmed, her eyes were smokey gray and wholly unremarkable, covered by oval-shaped glasses, and her skin had a slightly darker tone than those from the Tokyo area, suggesting she was from another part of the country, possibly Okinawa, and she was holding a briefcase similar to Hiro's. But she was so neat and plain that it was scary. She could just as easily have been a robot as a real, living, breathing woman. And the fact that she looked straight ahead and didn't acknowledge Hiro's presence in any way seemed to support the android theory.

Hiro tried to distract himself from this possibly mechanical woman by looking around the office, which he had seen at least a thousand times before. It had recently been recarpeted with a cream-colored carpet that Hiro guessed had to be steam cleaned frequently considering the amount of traffic that treaded over it, and besides the large mahogany desk and black desk chair it was furnished with two comfortable black chairs in front of the desk and a black couch on either side of the large room, if for nothing other than to take up space. There were potted plants scattered about the room, and at one end were the large, almost forboding oak doors, whereas the other side was taken up by a huge picture window. The other two walls were painted white, but several gold and platinum records were hanging all over them, both from Nittle Grasper and the other acts NG had managed to make a success. There was also a trophy case for other awards that the bands and company itself had earned.

Finally the doors flew open, and Seguchi Touma stepped into his office, his steps making no sound on the carpet, wearing a hunter green suit with a mint green shirt and dark green shoes and tie. But it was who was behind him that had Hiro's attention...

The man was extremely pale, almost to the point where he looked unhealthy. His hair was long, draping to about his waist, and hung loose, but the coloring was most unusual. The right half was a brilliant silver color, but the left half was deep blue. He was wearing ripped up white jeans, a dark blue T-shirt, and a black leather jacket. He also had a large assortment of jewelry, each ear adorned with no fewer than seven pairs of earrings in various designs, and each finger (pinkies and thumbs included) bedecked with a different silver ring with an alternating pattern of a black onyx and a deep sapphire studding each one. Around his neck was a black leather dog collar, a silver coin on a thin silver chain, and a silver cross. If he wasn't so strange looking, he could have been handsome.

But what Hiro noticed most were his eyes.

Those horrible, horrible eyes.

When he'd first entered, Hiro was sure they had been almost black in color, but when he'd turned to face Hiro they'd lightened considerably to an icy color, and now seemed to be turning bright blue. They immediately replaced Yuki Eiri's and Aizawa Tachi's as the worst eyes he had ever seen in his life, as they seemed to bore deep into his soul. He also noticed that there seemed to be some kind of defect in his left one, that the iris and pupil were a bit smaller and it didn't seemed to focus quite like the other, though it didn't seem to be blind. Though he couldn't place what exactly was wrong with it, he knew that it seemed oddly familiar. But no matter what was wrong with it, it unnerved him nonetheless.

The man's eyes turned black as he averted his gaze back to Touma, making his defect clearer. Hiro wondered if those eyes changed color at random, or with his mood. It seemed to be the latter, as they remained dark as he adopted an indifferent look.

"I apologize for being late," Touma began, looking around the room at the strange trio before him. "I believe the best way to begin is for you to introduce yourselves to each other, as you all know me quite well already." Touma pasted on a smile that, while meant to create the illusion of warmth, just struck Hiro as being smug, like the man knew that this was his situation. He had complete control.

When the other two made no motion to introduce themselves, Hiro sighed. "I am Nakano Hiroshi, and I will be acting as manager."

The woman smiled, though it seemed as fake as Touma's. "I am Kyousei Himeko, and I have been hired to act as a producer." Fortunately, though her voice wasn't exactly warm, it wasn't mechanical, either. Hiro had a feeling that the fact that she seemed mechanical was the main reason Touma had hired her. He loved people who could easily manipulate, like Sakano from Hiro's own music career.

"And I'm Chen Quon Yue," the man that Hiro had immediately decided he extremely disliked announced, making a very exhaggerated bow, obviously meant to mock the others in the room. "I suppose I'll be acting as your musical act for the day."

Touma's grin disappeared at Quon Yue's smugness, and Hiro was relieved to know he wasn't the only one in the room who already disliked him a lot, even if Touma didn't actually have to work with him.

When Quon Yue raised from his fake bow, he flashed an unnervingly charming smile, his eyes glittering bright blue now. They seemed to be full of mischief, and not of a kind that seemed to be in the least bit harmless. Hiro was ready to chalk up Chen Quon Yue as pure evil, and he had a feeling Touma was ready to do the same.

Touma sat down in his seat and shuffled some papers for effect, clearing his throat. "You may use an available rehearsal room. If you'll please excuse me, I have quite a bit of work to do."

Suddenly, Hiro came a realization: Touma was just as unnerved by the young singer as Hiro was and Himeko probably was, though she did a great job of hiding it behind her robotic mask.

"Come on. Let's go make me famous," Quon Yue announced, stepping toward the door. "And it was great meeting you, Seguchi!" he shouted behind him. The lack of formality suggested it was meant to be mocking, and Hiro hesitated to stand and follow the young man, though Himeko didn't seem to have such a problem.

What they didn't see was that as soon as they had left the room, Seguchi Touma actually shuddered. He had signed the man on to be a challenge to Nakano Hiroshi, but it seemed he would be just as much a challenge for him...

~*~*~*~*~*~*~

"Ukai Saki SUCKS!" Amai fumed, crumpling up the paper in her hand and dropping it, stepping on it. "I'll show her! As soon as my CD is finished we'll see who the last woman standing is!"

Shuichi and the dark haired man with the dark sunglasses and equally dark suit (who had introduced himself has Rosuto Koji) just raised their eyebrows. Tokui would have done the same, had he not sealed himself in the closet.

"Those idiots out there wouldn't know good music if it bit them on the ass! Well, no one shows up Seguchi Amai! I am going to sell so many albums people won't even remember her name when I'm done!" Amai vowed, kicking the review across the floor.

"A little friendly competition is nothing to worry about," Shuichi reassured, though he seemed nervous. Amai had a horrible temper and could be every bit as cunning and ruthless as her father. That, and the fact that she looked exactly like him added to the over-all effect, even if she was much more vocal about her diabolical plans and had a much shorter temper. "I had Nittle Grasper to contend with when my band first came out, after all, and I was still a huge hit."

Amai seemed to calm down upon hearing this. Though she was infinately proud of her father's musical background, the fact that the underdog had triumphed in the end made her feel better, though she by no means thought of herself as the underdog.

"Too bad Sakuma-san never had any children. Then all three of you could have formed a new band. Neo Grasper," Koji mused. He was a soft-spoken man, but had a powerful edge to him, especially since he looked like a secret agent.

"Sakuma-san does have a kid," Shuichi pointed out. "A son. He's seventeen now." Shuichi smiled, thinking of the boy. It was finding out his idol had a child that had made him suddenly want to become a parent so many years ago, and lead to what had to have been his longest and most damaging fight with Yuki ever. Had it not been for Hiro telling Shuichi that the less time Yuki spent caring for a child the more time he could spend with him they probably would have broken up, and Shuichi would forever be amazed that Hiro had been the one to save the relationship he hated so much.

"But there is no way in hell I will work with Ukai Saki," Amai declared, stomping her foot for effect.

"No one said you had to," Shuichi said quickly. "Though the thought is a cool one. The children of the three members of Grasper forming their own band...everyone recognized your father as the leader of the group, so you would probably have the same position."

"Besides, you have nothing against Ukai Saki personally, right?" Koji asked. "It's just that she's older so she got on the music scene before you did. Release a solo album, and if that takes off, then reconsider the Neo Grasper idea."

"We'd have to run the idea by Alexander Sakuma-Winchester first, though," Amai said, her voice turning haughty as she said the older boy's long and fancy name. She'd only met him once and had nothing against him, she just hated how long his name was.

"Alex likes to sing," Shuichi said with a nod. "But you're right: we don't know if either one wants to form a group with you. Rosuto-san is right: worry about your own album first and then worry about forming a band."

Amai shrugged and walked over to the closet, pounding on the door. "What do you think, baby brother?"

"S-sounds great," was the stuttered reply from the other side.

"Well, if Tokui is so thrilled about it, then I'll consider it. But I make no promises, got it?"

End of Chapter Two


	3. Bought and Sold

Disclaimer- OCs: mine. Everyone else: not. Got it?

Heart's Façade

Chapter Three: Bought and Sold

Written by A Girl Named Goo

Shuichi dragged himself into the apartment, making a big show about being more tired than he was before throwing himself into Yuki's chair. Unfortunately, Yuki was already seated in it, as was revealed by the loud "oof!" that the man made when Shuichi landed. 

"Look before you just sit somewhere, all right?" Yuki growled, though he made no motion to push his pink-haired lover off of his lap.

Shuichi sighed, resting his head on Yuki's shoulder and wrapping his arm around him. This surprised Yuki, as Shuichi usually prattled off his complaints a mile a minute when he was having a bad day. This could only mean he was having a REALLY bad day...

"That bad?" Yuki asked.

"Worse. The new manager is a secret agent, Amai is on the warpath because Ukai Saki has a number one album and now Seguchi-san is breathing down my neck to do something fast so she can get her big break, and the new act that Hiro has to work with is completely evil."

"Where's Tokui?"

"Seguchi-san took him to his house so he and Mika can figure out some way to help him without moving him in here. And no, I did not put him up to it. If anything, you did, since he was steamed when I got there."

Yuki muttered something that sounded like a curse under his breath. He loved his sister and former brother-in-law and respected them and their right to raise their children however they wanted, but sometimes they were both so stubborn that they forgot what was in the best interest of either of the twins.

"I need a vacation," Shuichi whined. "As a matter of fact, so do you. These past few years you've become such a hermit. You don't even go to book signings or interviews anymore. I can't remember the last time you actually left the apartment except to see your psychiatrist. All you do is sit in here and write and watch TV. There's a rumor going around that you're agoraphobic."

"Not agoraphobic. Just worried Tokui will appear and we won't be here," Yuki said softly, wrapping his arms around Shuichi's slender frame. "But now that you mention it, a vacation does sound like a good idea. Maybe after you get Amai's career going and we can get all of this straightened out with Tokui we can go someplace warm..."

Shuichi smiled at the thought. He couldn't remember the last time he was actually alone with Yuki. It would be nice to go into a hotel room on some warm, tropical beach and be able to just be alone without worrying about Tokui interrupting them or overhearing them...

"It's going to snow," Shuichi said suddenly, realizing this fact for the first time all day.

"That was a random thought," Yuki observed, running his hands through Shuichi's soft pink hair. "Did you get a haircut?"

"Yeah, Hiro took me today. He said I looked like a bum," Shuichi confirmed. "But I said that about the snow because I know how much you love snow and we can't leave just when winter is starting."

"You don't like snow," Yuki pointed out.

"I have to. I love you, don't I?¹" Shuichi asked teasingly.

"Yes, you do, for some unfathomable reason."

"And you love me back?"

"Don't push it."

"Simple yes or no. You don't actually have to say it."

"No."

"No, you don't love me, or no, you won't answer that?"

"No, I don't need to constantly reassure you of my feelings for you. If I didn't feel the same about you as you do about me would I have tolerated you for seventeen years?"

"'Tolerated'," Shuichi parrotted with a snort. "Nice of you to talk about me that way."

"Well, regardless of what anyone feels about you, what it boils down to is if they can tolerate your boundless energy or not. If it's one thing I've learned from being with you, it's that I have far more patience than I thought I did."

Shuichi smiled and lifted his head, meeting Yuki's lips. Yuki was caught a bit off guard by the sudden gesture, but wrapped his arms around his lover as he leaned into the kiss, immediately assuming control as he forced his tongue into the other man's mouth with little resistance. A first their tongues slid against each other is a slow and obviously practiced dance, but within moments the kiss escalated as their hands began to run over each other, each one fighting with the other's clothes to try to find some way of reaching the naked skin underneath.

Just as Shuichi managed to get his only hand up the front of Yuki's shirt a knock on the door stopped them both dead.

Yuki broked the kiss roughly and shouted, with unconcealed anger and annoyance, "Who is it?!"

"It's me, Eiri-san," came Touma's voice from the other side.

Shuichi quickly stood up from his lover's lap, only thankful that his boss hadn't whitnessed the previous scene between the two. The platinum blonde man hated him and his relationship with Yuki enough without having it thrown in his face, and after what he had done to Hiro, Shuichi really wasn't in the mood to test him.

"Just a second," Yuki muttered, standing up and punching the code into the new security system he'd had installed. As soon as the beep signalled he had successfully deactivated it he turned back around and walked into the living room, once again sitting in his chair as Shuichi sat on the couch. "Okay. It's open."

The door opened, and Touma walked in, followed closely by Amai, who, in turn, was dragging Tokui behind her. Though Shuichi worked with Amai on a daily basis and liked her well enough, he never failed to get a slight chill when he saw the girl and her father standing next to each other. He always felt it was like looking into some kind of twisted mirror.

"He's all yours!" Amai announced, giving Tokui a slight shove into the apartment. Tokui lost his balance and began to fall, but Touma grabbed his shoulder to steady him before he could.

With his hand still on his son's shoulder, Touma sighed. "Mika and I discussed this. Though we wish there was another solution, we really can't see one that would work. So we agreed that your plan is the best course of action. As soon as you are able to take him, he'll be staying here with you."

"We can take him now," Yuki announced.

"Where's he sleeping?" Amai asked, looking around her uncle's apartment. Having grown up spending most of her time with her father, Amai had never gotten as close to her uncle and his lover as her brother had.

Yuki shrugged. "Wherever he wants. He usually takes the couch when he stays here, but there's an almost empty walk-in closet in my office if he wants somewhere smaller and more private. Just have to move a few boxes of printer paper and ink cartridges into a corner and you're good to go."

Tokui nodded and walked in the direction of said area of the house, Amai close behind him, mostly curious to see her uncle's office but partially because she wanted to see her brother's new "room".

"You're really going to encourage this?" Touma asked, his face neutral but the edge in his voice suggesting he was less than pleased with this descision.

"I'm not encouraging it. It's just that he's done this all of his life. I can't miraculously break him of it in one day," Yuki argued, knowing that Touma didn't like to argue with him.

Touma just sighed, his face taking on a resigned expression that Shuichi had never seen him wear. "Whatever you say. You're the one who is going to save him, not me. Just know that if he needs anything, please call me and ask."

Yuki nodded. "I'll keep that in mind."

~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Amai looked around the closet. It was exactly what Yuki had said it was: plain white with a beige carpet and curtain rods going around the perimeter except for where the door was and a single shelf going along the top above the curtain rod. There were a few boxes on the floor, which Amai had put on the top shelf for her brother. It was considerably brighter than Tokui's converted laundry room at Mika's house and pantry at Touma's, and slightly bigger, big enough to hold a small bed and a stand, precisely what Tokui owned. (His bookshelf wouldn't be a loss, as he kept most of his books in boxes on his floor, anyway.)

The room Yuki Eiri used as an office was actually a second bedroom, converted into a workspace when Yuki had moved in, hence the closet was designed for clothes and shoes, not for supplies and certainly not to be used as a bedroom for a teenage boy. But Tokui seemed to be in heaven in here: not only was it small and enclosed, but also joined to his mentor's work area, where the man wrote the books that Tokui admired so much. Perhaps his uncle's creativity would reach him in this place...

"Well, it's an improvement over what you have at Kaasan and Tousan's houses," Amai assessed with a nod. "At least it's brighter in here." Amai turned and faced her brother, who was still leaning against the door frame. "Well, baby brother, this is it. We are officially not living together anymore. Feels kind of weird, doesn't it?"

Tokui shrugged. "We never really 'lived together', anyway. You spent most of your time with Tousan or at NG and I spent most of my time here or at Kaasan's. And why do you always call me 'baby brother'? You're only seven minutes older."

"I mean we lived together in theory. Now you don't officially live with Kaasan or Tousan, and that's weird. So you want us to send your stuff over?"

Tokui nodded, taking off his necklace and taking off two keys, handing them to his sister, as that was why she had asked him that question.

"Don't worry, baby brother. I'll make sure no one picks through your stuff. Sure you don't want to come home and get the real private stuff first?" Amai asked, pocketing the keys.

Tokui shook his head. "Everything private I have I keep on me at all times."

Amai ruffled her brother's hair. "Smart boy!" She then watched Tokui as he tried to straighten his hair out again, laughing. "You just have to be so adorable, don't you?"

"Is Tousan still talking to Eiri-ojisan?" Tokui asked, ignoring his sister's comments.

"Probably. If he was done he'd have called for me," Amai answered, though she turned to leave, taking the hint. "I'll be back soon with your stuff, baby brother! Stay adorable!"

Amai left the closet then, shutting the door behind her and stepping into her uncle's office. Yuki had never been very big on interior design, choosing furniture and household items based on their practicality, not their style. And his office was no exception, as it only had some bookshelves (with both books and supplies on them), his desk, and two chairs behind it: one a large desk chair, and the other smaller, probably for Shuichi.

After spending only a few minutes to examine the office (as she didn't share her brother's admiration for thier uncle or his profession) she walked back out into the living room. Yuki had moved so he was sitting on the opposite end of the couch that Shuichi was sitting on, but so that he was still close to Touma, who was sitting in his chair.

"He's just getting settled in," Amai announced, leaning against the back of her father's chair. "I actually think he's happy here. Well, as happy as he gets, anyway."

"I was just telling you father about the Neo Grasper idea," Shuichi said, keeping his gaze fixed on the girl and not on the man beneath her. It was awkward enough that his boss, who had hated him for years, was a close personal friend of his lover, as well as the father of his beloved nephew, but his charge didn't have to look so much like him. That was just adding insult to injury.

"I made no promises about that," Amai said firmly. "I'll admit that it's a great idea, since the novelty alone will draw in extra revenue, but not only do I not want to work with Ukai Saki, but I also want to get famous by my own merits, not by cashing in on my father's name."

"That's my girl," Touma said proudly, listening to his daughter's buisness savvy and pride, both inherited from him.

"That's why we want you to do the solo album first," Shuichi explained. "Because if you establish yourself as a solo artist and then join a band, it means that you can make it on your own, you just choose not to. And it's been ten years since Nittle Grasper stopped touring. Adults will remember the original Grasper and might buy Neo Grasper albums for that reason, but we're dealing with a whole new demographic here. You're Seguchi Touma's daughter and you can't even remember Nittle Grasper's heyday. You weren't born before their first run and you were barely six when they stopped the second time. See what I'm getting at? Neo Grasper is, undoubtedly, a cool idea. But then there is the added bonus of having less competition. Right now, you are competing with Ukai Saki for record sales, and she currently has the advantage of having been established for three years now. Plus I just got word that Alexander Sakuma-Winchester wants to start recording albums, so he'll corner the American market. If we can get you all together in one place there would be no competetion: the three biggest acts will be in one place. No one else stands a chance."

Yuki, Amai, and Touma were all gaping at Shuichi and his uncharacteristic lapse of maturity. Shuichi looked around the room, then blushed and cleared his throat. "I've been a producer for five years. I had to have learned something."

Touma nodded. "Well, Shindou-san, it seems your friend sold you short.You really do have a head for buisness."

"Can we go, Tousan?" Amai asked. "I promised baby brother I'd pick up some stuff for him."

Touma gave Yuki one last longing look. "Yes, I suppose it is getting late. I'll see you again soon, Eiri-san. And Shindou-san, I want you to write a formal proposal for Neo Grasper and have it on my desk by tomorrow morning."

"Tousan, I'm not sure if I want to do it yet!" Amai said firmly. "Don't make him work if he doesn't have to!"

"I have to have it on file in case you do decide," Touma told her. He stood and walked toward the door. "Good night everyone."

~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Hiro had woke up the next morning telling himself today was going to be better. Now he wished he could just crawl back into bed and forget about the day all together.

The first sign that the day wasn't going to be what Hiro would have liked it was Shuichi was late. Three hours late. Hiro had had to wait in the living room, with Tokui tucked in the corner on the floor (no matter how many times Hiro told him he didn't have to sit there he wouldn't move to the couch) and Yuki sitting on the couch glaring at him (mostly because Hiro was sitting in his chair) while Shuichi finished typing a proposal for Touma (on Yuki's computer, as his had decided to crash this morning, which meant Yuki was in an even worse mood).

When Shuichi finally came rushing from the direction of the office, blue folder in hand, he was wearing one of Yuki's old plum colored suits with a burgundy tie draped around his neck. Hiro had had to help him tie his tie and help him into his jacket before Shuichi could put the folder into his briefcase, give Yuki a quick kiss on the cheek (he had aimed for the lips but Yuki, not being happy with him, had moved his head at the last second) and finally left, Tokui in tow.

After arriving at NG, it had been Shuichi's turn to brave his boss and Hiro's turn to head straight to a rehearsal room. And that was when the best part of the day had ended....

Hiro had opened the door to rehearsal room six, the room that he, Kyousei Himeko, and Chen Quon Yue had agreed they would meet each day the day before. After opening the door, Hiro actually groaned.

Sitting in a chair, feet kicked up on the table in front of him, was Chen Quon Yue, smoking a cigarette, with three butts still smoldering on the floor around him. His hair was in two pigtails, the silver and blue seperated so perfectly the only way Hiro could figure he had done it was that he had dyed his hair while it was in the pigtails, he'd had someone seperate it for him, or he had an inhuman amount of patience and a couple of mirrors. His jewelry was unchanged (except, possibly, his earrings, but Hiro wasn't sure as he hadn't really noticed them the first time he'd seen him), and he was wearing a dark blue T-shirt that was cut above his navel, revealing a silver hoop with a dark blue ball, and written on the shirt, in English, with white rhinestones, was "ANGEL". He was wearing faded blue, low-slung bell bottoms, black platform shoes with large silver buckles on the side of each one, a black belt with a silver buckle, and the newest addition to his collection of jewelry were four beaded bracelets in different shades of blue, black, and white on each wrist. His fingernails were painted light blue, and he was wearing dark eyeliner, light blue eyeshadow, and icy blue lipstick. He didn't seem to notice Hiro, even after he groaned, as he had a far-away look on his face, his eyes the same dark blue as his shirt, the pupil of his defective left one twitching slightly.

Hiro cleared his throat, trying to get the younger man's attention, but this also failed to get him from his trance. His cigarette was burning down, and would probably burn his fingers in a moment. Sighing, Hiro walked over to Quon Yue and tapped his shoulder.

This proved to be a big mistake, as Quon Yue whirled around, producing a switchblade seemingly from no where and aiming it at Hiro's throat so that the tip almost touched his neck, his eyes switching from dark blue to the same icy blue as his lips, the same icy blue his eyes had been the first time he had made eye contact with Hiro.

"No one touches me unless I say they can," he growled through clenched teeth, the pupil of his defective eye twitching madly. He took the knife from Hiro's throat, folding it and pocketing it again. Hiro audibly sighed with relief. He didn't know Quon Yue well enough to tell if he was capable of hurting another human being, but if he had to stake money on it he'd guess that he was. One thing was for sure: Hiro wasn't going to push it if this man was so sensitive about being touched.

Quon Yue dropped his cigarette to the floor and stepped on it, along with the other three, which had begun to burn through the carpet. He didn't make a motion to pick them up, though, and Hiro gritted his teeth, knowing Touma wouldn't be at all pleased when he found out. This building was No Smoking, for one thing, and he would have to replace the carpet.

"You're late, Mr. Suit," Quon Yue observed, eyes shifting to the bright blue that Hiro knew meant he was planning one of his evil plots. "Three and a half hours late."

"I had to pick someone up and he was running late," Hiro explained, though he didn't feel he owed him any kind of explanation. "You've been waiting here the entire time?"

"Life's too short to miss any of it by being late," Quon Yue explained, lighting another cigarette with a match from the box in his pocket. "That producer chick was here, but she excused herself and left about two hours ago. God knows where she went." He blew out the match and dropped it on the floor. Hiro noticed for the first time there were four other matches there already.

"I'm surprised you have a philosophy like that," Hiro mused. "You don't seem like the type to be bound by deadlines and appointments."

"Well, Mr. Suit, I'm just full of surprises. I'm suprised you didn't piss your expensive pants when I whipped out that knife," Quon Yue told him with a smile, taking a drag from his cigarette and flicking the ashes onto the floor.

The door opened again, and Hiro sighed with relief when he saw Kyousei Himeko walk in with two cups of coffee. He had a feeling she had left because she was afraid to be alone with Quon Yue and had hidden in the staff room downstairs until she saw him come in. He couldn't say he blamed her; considering what had just happened, he probably would have done the same thing in her situation.

"Good morning, Nakano-san," she said brightly, putting a cup of coffee in front of him. "It is still morning, right?"

Hiro looked at his watch. "For another hour and a half, yes."

"Wonderful. That's enough time to pack up and leave," Quon Yue muttered, rolling his eyes, which were now a stormy blue-gray color.

"No one is using this room for the rest of the day, and I have no where else to be," Hiro told him firmly. "We can stay here all night if we want to."

"Fine. I'm game," Quon Yue said evenly, calling his bluff. He dropped his cigarette and stepped on it.

"First things first: those clothes. Unless that's your image, you can't do that anymore," Hiro continued.

Quon Yue sighed, the icy blue color returning to his eyes. "You're a manager, not an image consultant. I have a gimmick planned. I have songs ready. I know what image I want. I can handle it. You get me the gigs, you make me famous. I know that you have a deal with Seguchi and I know you just want me to get famous so you can move on because you don't like me. Frankly, I don't like you, either. So let me do all the hard stuff, and you do the rest. Got it?"

Both Hiro and Himeko were taken aback by this. They had expected him to fight them every step of the way, but he actually seemed to want to make things easier on them.

Hiro locked his eyes on the younger man's, which were still icy blue and not at all friendly looking. They seemed to be engaging in a staring contest, Quon Yue not blinking, the center of his defective left eye twitching ever so slightly. Finally, Hiro looked down at his briefcase and sighed. "You're right. I get you the gigs, Kyousei-san handles the financial end, you do the work. So as soon as you're ready to record-"

"I need a band," Quon Yue snapped. "A session band. I want to be a solo artist."

"Seguchi-san has some session musicians on call. I'll tell him what you need."

"You do that, Mr. Suit. I'm going to lunch. Joi gin yan²," Quon Yue announced, standing and leaving the room.

Hiro looked across the room at Himeko, who was picking up cigarette butts and matches, though the damage was already done to the carpet.

"I don't think he's coming back. Not today, anyway," she said softly as she dropped the mess in her hand into the trashcan.

"Good. After the way he nearly killed me I need a night to recover," Hiro muttered, not bothering to conceal his hatred for this man.

"Maybe we're not giving him a chance," Himeko pointed out. "We are both judging him by how he looks. We don't really know all that much about him."

"The guy carries around a knife and aims at the throat of anyone who touches him. That tells me a lot," Hiro argued, rubbing the front of his neck for effect.

Himeko shrugged and picked up her briefcase. "I think I am going to go out for lunch, too. Care to join me?"

"Might as well. Not like I have anything else to do."

~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Shuichi wasn't having much luck in his own endevor as he grasped his folder, waiting for his boss to get off the phone. At first, he wasn't sure who the other man was speaking to or what about, but after a few moments the details started to come together.

When he'd first walked into the room, Touma wasn't on the phone, but it had rung before Shuichi could hand over the folder, prompting Touma to make a gesture that implied that he wanted him to wait before he picked up, his face a perfect mask of false innocence and warmth.

"Moshi moshi. This is Seguchi Touma speaking." Touma paused to listen, his façade disappearing as who was on the other line spoke to him. "How much do you need?" Another pause. "For what?" Pause. "No, not again. That's what you told me the last time. I want to trust you this time, but I am not going to be made a fool of by you again." Pause. "Suguru, I said no. You've been saying that for three years. I just can't trust you anymore." Pause. "Suguru, the only way I will give you that money is if you move to Japan so I can watch you and make sure you keep your word." Pause. "Don't tell me that. I know you are coming to Japan for my wedding. Just pack your stuff and move here entirely. I can make sure you get into the best rehab center in the country. I'll pay for that, Suguru, but I'm not going to pay for your drugs under the pretense you are entering rehab in America. I am sick of you using the fact that you are all the way in Los Angeles where I can't see you to take advantage of me." Pause. "You're in New York now?! When did this happen?" Pause. "Yes, I believe you went there to get away from your Los Angeles life, but I still don't trust you. You can start over a thousand times, but unless you do it in Japan you aren't going to do it with my money." Pause. "Yes, we are family, Suguru. That's why you should have more shame than you do. You are constantly lying to me and abusing my good will. I can only do that so many times before I put my foot down. If I were really to do you a favor I'd get on a plane and drag you here against your will." Pause. "No, Suguru, no. For the last time, no. Look, I'll wire you enough money for a plane ticket. A one way ticket. If you are not at my wedding then I will personally fly to New York and talk to every drug dealer and junky until I find you and drag you back here. And don't think I won't. I'll get the police involved if I have to. I'll hire private investigators. I want to see you get better, Suguru. Not worse." Pause. "Fine. I'll see you then. And I mean it: I had better. I will not be pleased if I have to postpone my honeymoon to go looking for you. For God's sake, you're 32 years old and you're an intelligent man. You could have done so much with your life. You still can. If you can clean up your act I'll give you a job. That's the deal. Now, I have important buisness to attend to." Pause. "No, Suguru. Just for the plane ticket. If you're in trouble then coming to Japan will be the best thing for you. Good bye."

Touma hung up the phone before Suguru could say anything else and looked up at Shuichi, adopting his fake smile again. "All right, Shindou-san. Do you have the proposal?"

"Yeah, it's here," Shuichi said quickly after shaking his head to break the trance the phone call had put him in. He handed Touma the folder.

Touma leaned back in his chair as he read the contents of it, nodding occasionally and rocking slightly. Finally, he leaned over his desk and put the folder down. "Yes, very nice work, Shindou-san. From the typographical errors it's easy to tell you rushed it a bit, and you still have that same horrible signature³, but I can read it and I certainly like what I see. I will file it immediately for when Amai is ready to form Neo Grasper."

"Amai said she doesn't know if she wants to go through with the Neo Grasper idea," Shuichi argued.

"She says that now, but when she releases her solo album she'll change her tune, no pun intended. I am positive of it. She is only saying that because she likes to be difficult and she wants to sound like she doesn't need anyone. She knows that Neo Grasper is just too good an idea to let slip away."

"With all due respect, Seguchi-san, I think you're wrong. She likes the creative freedom of being a solo artist too much and hates Ukai Saki too much to want to form a band with her. The only way I could convince her to consider it was when I brought up you were the leader of Nittle Grasper and she would probably have the same position in Neo Grasper."

Touma leaned back in his chair again. "Yes, that does sound like her. Really, she doesn't know Ukai Saki well enough to dislike her. She just resents that she got to record an album three years ago while she still had to wait. Once she gets this solo career buisness out of her system she'll be ready to join a band. We are both very much alike in that we are both willing to put our personal feelings aside for buisness."

Shuichi bowed slightly. "If you say so, Seguchi-san." And with that he turned on his heel and left the office.

As soon as he was gone, Touma pressed the button that activated his intercom again. "Sako, I'm ready to see Sakano-san now."

End of Chapter Three

¹ This is a play on words. "Yuki" is the Japanese word for "snow".

² "Good bye people" in Chinese (Cantonese).

³ In the manga, when Ryuuichi and Shuichi are comparing handwriting, it's said that both of them have poor signatures because of their bad handwriting and because neither one can write in kanji.


	4. Lost and Found

Note to Those Who Read the Original- The psychiatrist scene has been completely rewritten because some people got the wrong idea of what was happening to Tokui. Hopefully it's easier to understand now. Also, I am using a less disputed and controversial diagnosis this time, not because of how radical the former was but because what I say happened to Tokui later on in the fic doesn't coincide with the initial diagnosis.

Disclaimer- Click back a chapter or two.

Heart's Façade

Chapter Four: Lost and Found

Written by A Girl Named Goo

Talking to Kyousei Himeko proved to be the conversational equivilant of sitting in on a lecture given by an expert in a field you have no interest in: it was occasionally interesting, definately better than sitting home alone doing nothing, but when it was over you couldn't remember anything that was said and you were sure you didn't want to repeat the experience.

Not that Hiro found the woman unpleasant. She was certainly friendly enough, and reasonably intelligent. But if you steered the conversation away from something other than work she tended to be quiet except for a few monosyllabic words of agreement and become rather distant. Hiro wasn't used to carrying a conversation on his own, having been best friends with a very talkative man for many years, hence he tried to bring up work more often. It was that, or ask her short-answer questions, from which he had only gathered that she wasn't married, had no children, had three older sisters and a younger brother, liked cats (but wasn't fanatical about them) and had majored in buisness management in college, graduating top in her class.

About the only thing about Kyousei Himeko that left Hiro relieved was that while she was an obvious workaholic, she didn't have the same stress-management problem that Sakano had always suffered from. She also had a birdlike appitite, only taking three bites of her salad during the entire conversation. And her face always seemed to be very sympathetic, though Hiro wasn't sure what he had said or done to earn her sympathy.

Hiro stood up, picking up the tray containing his trash. "If you don't mind, I think I am going to call it a day. If you'll let me pay-"

"Oh, no," Himeko interrupted. "This was my idea, so my treat."

Hiro didn't argue. Though he was a gentleman, he was never one to turn down a free meal, either. Besides, fighting over something like that was a futile gesture, at best. And at worst he would end up paying for both meals.

He pushed open the doors to the exit, stepping out into the chilly afternoon. The air smelled of coming snow, and the wind stung his cheeks slightly, causing him to dart over to his car door as quickly as possible. He was about to open the door when a voice stopped him dead.

"Nakano-san?"

Hiro turned around. Standing in front of him was a middle-aged woman, with a trim figure and rather flat chest. Her hair was short, almost the same style as Kyousei Himeko's, and dark blue with touches of gray. Her outfit was a perfect copy of Himeko's, only her jacket and skirt were black, as were her shoes, and her tie was green. She was also wearing glasses with thick frames over her dark eyes. Had Hiro not known better, he would have mistook her for being one of Himeko's sisters or classmates.

"Sakano-san?" Hiro asked, turning around and leaning against his car. "What are you doing here?"

The woman, formerlly known as Bad Luck producer Sakano Issei, now known as Sakano Ayame, just laughed slightly. "Nice way to say hi to your former producer, Nakano-san," she said teasingly. "I was waiting for Tou- ah, Seguchi-san. We were supposed to meet at the restaraunt next door for dinner, but he got held up at work. Since the reservation is in his name I can't go in until he gets here."

"Well, instead of freezing to death why don't you get in the car and wait with the heat on," he offered, pointing to his car.

Sakano nodded and walked around to the other side of the car, climbing in as Hiro got in on his side. He started the car and turned on the heat, then turned and looked at her. "So besides being forced to wait out in the cold for your fiancée, how are things going?"

She shrugged. "As well as one can imagine. Except my future stepdaughter doesn't seem all too pleased with the prospect of me marrying her father. I can't tell if it's because of her mother or because she knows I used to be a man and she doesn't think her father should marry someone like that."

Hiro nodded. "Amai is like that. I don't think it's because of her mother or because of your operation. She's just used to having her father all to herself. Not even her brother had that much interest in him. Now she has to share his affections with you."

Sakano sighed. "I just want her to like me. That's all. Is there anything I can do to make her like me?"

Hiro leaned against the steering wheel, giving this serious consideration. "What you have to understand about Amai is that she is like her father in a lot of positive ways. She looks like him for one, she is very smart with a great head for buisness, she's a hard worker and she isn't afraid to fight for what she wants, and music-wise she is multi-talented. But she's also like him in a lot of negative ways. She will do anything for what she wants, even resort to some ruthless and underhanded tricks. She can be very cunning and manipulative. And she has a bit of a jealous streak to be wary of. And then there are the traits that she has that are uniquely her, the few things she probably gets from her mother. She is very stubborn, she doesn't like to be told she is wrong, and she can be a spoiled brat at times. It's that last thing and her jealous streak that makes her not like you. All of her life it's been her and Seguchi-san. Seguchi-san has given her everything she has ever wanted or needed, both material and emotional. She has had his undivided attention all of her life as well. He has really spoiled her rotten. And then you come along, and suddenly she feels threatened. She's been the only one he cares about, and now she feels she has to compete with you. And trust me: when you force Amai into any kind of competition, she plays to win."

"So there's no hope?" she asked.

"I am not saying there's no hope. Maybe when she realizes there's no way Seguchi-san is going to back out of this marriage and how much he loves you she'll grow up and be willing to share. Or maybe you should tell Seguchi-san how you feel so he can talk to her. She thinks he's a god, after all. If he tells her to jump, she asks how high. So it's logical to assume if he tells her to behave herself and stop acting like a spoiled little girl then she will. And even if Amai does try to fight him on it, consider who she is going to be arguing against. Even I'd back down in an arguement with Seguchi-san. Though I would like to see an arguement between those two, since if it's anyone who can match wits against Seguchi Touma it'd be his own daughter."

There was silence for a few moments in the car. Sakano adjusted the heat to keep herself amused, and Hiro looked out the window, hoping to see his boss somewhere.

"You're not worried about Tokui?" Hiro asked at last.

"Well...no, not really," Sakano said, though her voice suggested otherwise. "He doesn't have much to do with his father, anyway, so I'll probably never see him. And between you and me, Seguchi-san is actually uncomfortable around him. But don't tell him I told you that. About the only people who have anything to do with him are Amai and Yuki-san. And Shindou-san, of course."

"Why would Seguchi-san feel uncomfortable around Tokui?" Hiro asked, raising a skeptical eyebrow. If it was one thing Seguchi Touma was famous for, it was that he was fearless, and could at least create the illusion of being at ease in any situation. "I mean, he's a little strange, but he's a good boy. Anyone who has been able to talk to him can tell you he's very sweet and gentle and downright adorable, he just doesn't value himself very much and thinks that people are wasting their time talking to him."

Sakano shook her head. "Seguchi-san doesn't like how quiet he is. And when he sees him, he feels like he did something wrong somehow. And not only that, but he looks just like Yuki Eiri did when he was sixteen, and that makes him both very sad and very unnerved."

Just as the first flakes of snow began to fall, both Hiro and Sakano noticed a black BMW pull up in front of them, and from it came Seguchi Touma.

"Thanks for letting me warm up in here," Sakano said, smiling warmly. "You're coming to the wedding, right?"

"Actually, I wasn't invited," Hiro confessed.

"Then you are now. As my guest," she told him. "I'll see you soon."

She shut the door, and Hiro watched her join her fiancée and walk with him into the restaraunt before he put his car in gear and prepared to drive back to his apartment.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~

"Let me get this straight..." Yuki said, shock and disbelief on his face as he stared at the woman in front of him. "Tokui is like this because of what happened to me when I was sixteen?"

"In a sense, yes," she said. "Yuki-san, I have treated you for years. Have I ever lied to you?"

Yuki shook his head, putting his forehead in his hand. The woman in front of him was his own personal psychiatrist. He had brought Tokui to her because she was the only one he knew and trusted, hoping she would treat him as well or, at the very least, recommend someone who could. "But...Dr. Mitsuri, how the hell is that possible?"

Dr. Mitsuri looked down at the book in front of her and sighed. "When children are born, they are like empty books. It's up to the adults around them to fill that book. For about the first 12 years of a child's life they do nothing but absorb. They take in the thoughts, feelings, and actions of those around them. They take to memory what they are told. Tokui is a very empathetic boy- that is, he feels what others are feeling. And you practically radiate pain. He idolizes you, so he's grown up observing you and taking in what you say and do and feel. He doesn't know what happened to you exactly, but he acts like someone who has endured the same experience as you. Think of when you were sixteen, when it first happened. How did you act? You were probably pretty quiet and withdrawn before you became so cold."

"But why me? Shuichi's had some pretty nasty experiences in his past and he's always near him. Why couldn't he absorb his feelings instead?" Yuki further inquired.

"Because he doesn't feel as close to Shuichi as he does to you. Think of when you were in school as a child and how other children treated you because of how you look. Now think of when Tokui tried school. It never occured to him he looked different before then because he'd grown up near you, just like you didn't know because your family never told you. He doesn't get along with his parents just like you never got along with yours. He wants to be a writer, you are a writer. You are his role model, his mentor. You raised him, you cared for him. His parents might have handled the financial and technical aspects, but you were there emotionally. He associates with you, and as a result he associates with your emotions. And there are only two solutions to that problem, and neither of them are nearly as simple as they sound: either he stays away from you for a while and develops his own feelings and personality, or you start to make progress so he can sense it. With Shuichi you made tremendous amounts of progress, but you still have all of the symptoms of Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder. I'll leave it up to you which method you choose. The first could compromise his physical health, but the second could be emotionally difficult for the both of you. If you choose the second, I advise you tell him about what happened. I also think, under the circumstances, you should be treated together. So come in at your usual time next week, but bring him with you. I'll also schedule individual sessions for him on Wednesday and you on Thursday, since a few of my patients are no longer in my care. And I'll also prescribe some anti-depressents and sleeping pills for him, but monitor him when he takes them. With his health problems and food and drug allergies they could harm him or they might not react well with his other medications."

Yuki thought about this hard. "Doctor, can you help him?"

The psychiatrist sighed again. "I don't specialize in children, and honestly I don't know. If he doesn't open up then it's possible he never will get better, and if he doesn't get better he'll only get worse. I think there is more that he is not telling anyone, and I was only able to form my diagnosis based on what he would tell me. His preference for small spaces, severe aversion to other people, secretive nature, and phobia of elevators are all things that I can't explain yet, and I can't treat them unless I can explain them. But they are all very alarming symptoms. They suggest he's endured some kind of trauma, especially when his phobias are so specific. He's hiding something, and I am afraid that if we can't figure out what it is then he'll have a breakdown and end up being institutionalized."

Yuki just nodded dumbly and took the slips of paper Dr. Mitsuri offered (one with a prescription and one with the times and dates of the appointments), standing up and leaving the office. Tokui was in the waiting room, having been unable to run because Yuki had instructed the receptionist to keep an eye on him and not let him go anywhere, not even to the bathroom, unless she accompanied him.

"Come on, Tokui," Yuki said, his voice sounding more harsh than he meant it to. Tokui rose from his seat obediently, falling into step behind his uncle..

~*~*~*~*~*~*~

It was already dark and snowing hard when Shuichi came home. He didn't look pleased, but he wasn't in as bad a mood as he had been the day before, either. He scanned the living room for any signs of life. The light over the sink was on, but the TV was off, and Shuichi had seen Yuki's car parked outside so he knew that he was home.

Shuichi's first instinct was to walk into Yuki's office. The light was off in there, but the light in the closet was on, suggesting Tokui was home. Leaving the office, he walked into their bedroom. The light was off in there, too, but in the dim light from the street lights Shuichi could see a sillouhette on the bed. Shuichi sat on the edge of the bed, knowing Yuki couldn't be asleep because he was laying on his back.

"It's snowing hard outside," Shuichi said softly. "I thought for sure you'd be on the balcony watching it."

"I was for a little while," Yuki confessed. "I was talking to Tokui."

Shuichi laid down next to Yuki, wrapping his arm around him. Ordinarilly he would have told Shuichi to go away because he needed to be alone, but much to his own surprise having Shuichi against him seemed to be just what he needed.

"Bad day?" Shuichi asked, rubbing Yuki's bare chest a little and kissing his shoulder lightly.

"That's an understatement," was the solemn reply. "I took Tokui to my psychiatrist today."

"And what did she say?"

Yuki swallowed, hoping Shuichi wouldn't hear the tears in his voice. "She said that the reason Tokui acts the way that he does is because of me. Or, to be more accurate, because of what happened to me when I was 16."

"But how can he possibly know what happened to you?"

"He doesn't. He just feels it. He feels what others feel, apparently, and because he thinks so highly of me he feels my emotions the most. She also says that he's endured some kind of trauma of his own that he's hiding, because of how specific his phobias are. And if we can't figure out what they are then he'll eventually have a breakdown and have to be institutionalized."

Shuichi took Yuki's hand in his own. "We won't let that happen though, will we? I mean, we've been through a lot. We can make it through this, too."

Yuki readjusted his hand so that he was holding Shuichi's instead of the other way around. "I don't know, Shuichi. I really don't. I want to agree, but I'm not an optimist like you. For Tokui's sake, I have to say I believe that. And I am sure as hell going to do what I can in the meantime to keep that from happening."

For a long time there was only silence, Shuichi curled up against Yuki, and Yuki looking out the sliding glass doors in his bedroom outside at the snow falling past the streetlights. When he finally realized how much time had gone by, he looked down at his smaller lover curled up against his body. The other man was fast asleep already, and though Yuki ordinarilly would have woke him up long enough to get him to move over to his own side of the bed, he lacked the heart on this night. Sighing, he began to run his fingers through Shuichi's strawberry-scented pink locks, half expecting him to start purring (and finding himself a little disappointed, much to his own surprise, when he didn't).

Yuki reached over to his nightstand long enough to fumble with a bottle and, squinting to read it (both from absence of light and absence of his reading glasses) finally opened it and took a pill out of it, swallowing it without anything to wash it down, then laid back and waited for the sleeping pill to take effect, a little uncomfortable because he wasn't lying on his stomach.

What Yuki didn't know was that everything he had said and done was being watched by a pair of large, golden eyes looking in from the still-open bedroom door...

~*~*~*~*~*~*~

"Why are we here and not in the studio? We've only recorded three tracks." Quon Yue asked, his icy tone matching the color of his eyes. He currently had his left hand flat on the solid oak table of the rehearsal room, his knife in his right hand, trying to see how quickly he could stab between his fingers. So far he had nicked his fingers eight times and caused serious damage to the surface of the expensive table, as well as staining the front of his white T-shirt. He was sans make-up today, wearing his hair in a loose ponytail, a white T-shirt, a black vest, black shoes, and blue jeans. Again, his jewelry was unchanged, and Hiro wondered if he ever took it off.

"Only..." Hiro muttered, but loudly he said, "We've been working for five and a half hours straight. While I commend you for your work ethic, give the poor session musicians a chance to recover. Besides, everyone's gone home now. I don't even know what we're still doing here."

Quon Yue nicked his index finger again, but didn't seem to notice as he kept moving the knife between his fingers, faster than ever now, and closer to the webs of them. "Where did the producer chick go?"

"After the recording session was over she said she had another appointment," Hiro explained, watching him move the knife. "And could you please quit that?! You're ruining the table! As it is I already had to pay for Seguchi-san's new carpet because you ruined the old one! I was nice last time, but this time I won't hesitate to send the bill your way!"

Quon Yue's eyes turned that mischevious bright blue again. "Whatever you say, Mr. Suit," he said with a grin that made Hiro grit his teeth as he folded his knife and pocketed it. "Though I imagine you have money to spare on little things like a new table or a new carpet."

"You assume wrong. How much money do you think I make?" Hiro snapped, losing his patience.

"From this job? Close to jack shit. But don't think I don't know who you really are," Quon Yue said tauntingly.

"Oh? And who am I really?"

"You are the Nakano Hiroshi, a.k.a. Hiro from Bad Luck."

"I didn't think that was a big secret."

Quon Yue leaned back, putting his feet up on the table and ignoring the scrapes and blood on it. "Why don't you play the guitar anymore, Mr. Suit?" He took his knife out of his pocket and began to clean under his black-painted fingernails with the blade.

"I outgrew that phase of my life. Moved on," Hiro said, though his voice lacked the confidence he was hoping for as he found he was asking himself the same question. The first time he has threatened to quit guitar was because of his studies, and the next time because of Ayaka, but he had never actually done it either of those times. So why did he think that because he wasn't touring with Bad Luck anymore it meant he couldn't ride his motorcycle or play his guitar? And if he had really put them away for good, how come he put them in storage instead of selling them? There seemed to be no logic in that...

"You don't sound so sure, Mr. Suit," Quon Yue taunted. "Now, there's something I've been dying to know ever since I first saw you guys when I was a kid."

"You're a Bad Luck fan?" Hiro asked skeptically.

"I was. How could I not be? Your music was playing every minute of every day. It was inescapable. But I digress." Quon Yue put his knife away and put a cigarette in his mouth, lighting it with a match. Before he could drop it, Hiro walked across the room and took it, dropping it in the trashcan. "Anyway, you know the little pink-haired guy in your band? The singer?"

"Yeah. He's only my best friend," Hiro muttered, as if it was obvious.

"Did you and him ever fuck?"

"Excuse me?"

"You know. Get it on. Do the horizontal mambo. Have sex. Whatever."

Hiro tried to hide his rage. "Why the hell do you want to know?"

"It's just bugging me."

Hiro sighed. "Yeah, we did a few times on tour, before I started dating the keyboardist. Happy?"

"Very," Quon Yue said with a nod, taking a drag from his cigarette but, thankfully, flicking the ashes into his hand. "Now that I see how tall you are, though, I'll bet he's just a little thing. How little is he?"

"Dammit, why are you so concerned with Shuichi? He's short and skinny and has one arm, all right? He works here, you know. I'm surprised you haven't run into him yet."

"Really?" he asked, brightening considerably. "Is he still here?"

"At eleven at night? Hell, I don't even think Seguchi-san is still here." Hiro looked out the window. It had been snowing when he had pulled in that morning, but what he saw now nearly made him faint: an all-out blizzard.

"By any chance, have you noticed the weather?" Hiro asked, trying to sound calm.

Quon Yue looked out the window, his eyes briefly turning violet. Suddenly, they turned bright blue as he turned and looked at Hiro. "Looks like we're stuck, Nakano-san."

~*~*~*~*~*~*~

"You wanted to see me, Tousan?" Amai asked, walking into her father's home office.

Touma, though wearing his dark green silk pajamas and a housecoat and slippers, still looked poised and professional sitting behind his desk, pen in hand and reading glasses alighting his face. His daughter was also dressed for bed, in a mint green-colored lacy nightgown and hunter green housecoat and slippers similar to her father's.

"Yes, Amai, I did," Touma said, his tone grave. "Sakano-san told me something that upset me a great deal."

"And this has to do with me why?" Amai asked, leaning in the doorway, not the least bit afraid of her father.

Touma sighed. "She's convinced you don't like her."

"Well, I don't," Amai pointed out. No sense in hiding anything from her father.

"Why not?" Touma asked, his voice even, though Amai wasn't fooled by his calm ruse. She knew when he was angry.

"She's all wrong for you. For one thing, she is actually a he-"

"We went over this, Amai. She used to be a man. But she isn't now."

"She still has all the important parts that make her a him."

"She's going to have that taken care of. After the wedding."

"And notice how she wants to wait until after she marries a rich, good looking guy to finish getting an expensive and elective operation. She only wants you for your money, Tousan."

"I've known her longer than I've known you, Amai. I know that she isn't like that. She had the operation because before it she was a nervous wreck. And she wasn't happy with herself. Now she is. It was my choice to get married before her last operation, not hers."

"Well, you're Scorpio and she's a Virgo. Not a good match. Virgos tend to rely on Scorpios for too much, and that drives Scorpios away. That won't work."

Touma sighed and rolled his eyes. "Forgive me for not consulting the stars on who I should marry. Amai, you know I don't believe in all that astrology buisness."

"You should. You're an almost stereotypical Scorpio."

"Either way, I am not going to call off my marriage because my sixteen year old daughter told me that the stars say we shouldn't be together. Besides, isn't your brother a Virgo?"

"Yes, he is, but-"

"And you're a Leo, which, if I am not mistaken, doesn't work well with either Scorpio or Virgo. Yet you still love me and your brother, correct?"

"Yes, I do, but-"

Touma swiveled in his chair to look out the large picture window at the blizzard, thankful for the fireplace on the other side of the room. "Amai, I love you. A lot. And you will always be my first priority. But I also love Ayame a great deal. And I really don't want to have to choose between you. Don't make me do that, Amai, because I don't want to lose either one of you. Yes, my attention and affection will be divided, but we've been dating for years. The only difference will be that she will be living here with us. You're already used to having to split my affection with her. Do you see what I am getting at here? I am not choosing between you. You'll just have to learn to share. Ayame never did anything to you except try to get you to like her, and she shouldn't be punished for it."

Amai sighed, knowing she was beaten. "Yes, sir."

"And speaking of sharing, have you given the Neo Grasper idea any thought?" he asked suddenly, swiveling back around to face her.

Amai shrugged. "Do you really want me to do it?"

"From both a financial and emotional standpoint, yes, I do think it would be best. I never persued a solo career for a reason, Amai. My days with Nittle Grasper were both the greatest and the hardest days of my life, but I'd never trade that experience for anything, and I knew that a solo career just wouldn't be like the band experience. If you are anything like me- which I do know that you are- then you will probably find the band experience to be much more rewarding than a solo career."

Amai just nodded. "Can I go now?"

"Yes, you may go. Oyasumi, Amai."

"Oyasumi!" she shouted as she ducked out of her father's office. Touma just sighed, shook his head, and returned to work.

End of Chapter Four


	5. Fire and Ice

Disclaimer- Um...something to do with threes?

Heart's Façade

**Chapter Five: Fire and Ice**

**Written by A Girl Named Goo**

Hiro had to admit that he'd never actually seen a person steal from a vending machine before. Of course, the reason was probably that he had never been snowbound in a major media corporation with a borderline psychotic Chinese singer with no change and nothing to eat or drink before. Neverless, it was a learning experience.

First, Quon Yue had tried to reach behind the machine. Finding this didn't work, he'd tried to slip his entire body in. Failing at that, he'd asked for Hiro's help in moving the soda machine from the wall. From there he'd taken his knife and, before Hiro could figure out what he had done, he had somehow rigged the machine up to dispense soda whenever they pushed a button, whether they put change in or not.

Hiro had helped him move a candy machine next and asked that he work a little slower so that he could watch. Quon Yue had done so, explaining his every move. Then, to see if Hiro had been paying attention, they moved another soda machine away from the wall, and Quon Yue reluctantly handed over his knife long enough for Hiro to cut the appropriate wires and rewire it. Though he knew what he was doing was both morally and legally wrong, it gave him a thrill to know he was cheating the system, and he held up his first free soda as if it were a trophy.

After they were finished robbing the vending machines (which Quon Yue had insisted on rewiring properly when they were done so that by the time their handiwork was discovered no one would be able to trace it to the two people who were stuck there for a night) they collected their small feast in junk food and caffinated beverages and headed back to the rehearsal room.

Quon Yue placed himself in the corner, folding his legs neatly so he was sitting in a lotus position, his eyes turning dark blue as he stared off into space, nibbling a chocolate bar. Hiro sat down at the table, kicking off his shoes and taking off his jacket and tie before settling down to his own food.

"So where'd you learn a trick like that?" Hiro asked, if for no reason other than to break the silence.

Quon Yue seemed startled at this. Then he smiled, his eyes taking on that bright blue color that made Hiro's already apparent unease of the situation grow. "Relax, Mr. Suit. I steal a candy bar or a soda now and then when no one's looking. I don't knock over banks or anything like that."

"I didn't say you did. I just want to know where you learned how to do it," Hiro repeated.

Quon Yue shrugged, licking the chocolate off of his fingers and depositing the wrapper in the trashcan he was leaning against. "When I was eleven I saw a couple of older kids trying to do it without moving the machine. They saw me and gave me a knife and told me that I had little arms, and that they'd kick the shit out of me if I didn't do what they said. Then they gave me the instructions. I had a black eye and a fat lip before I finally got it right, and I've just never forgotten."

Hiro nodded slowly, taking a drink from the soda he had managed to filch himself. Suddenly he didn't seem so proud of what he had done...

Quon Yue stood up and left the room. When he came back, he was holding an acoustic guitar, obviously found in a supply room or in the recording studio, left by a session guitarist.

"Play," he ordered, thrusting the thing in Hiro's direction.

"Excuse me?" Hiro asked, taken off guard. He took the instrument, but didn't even put the strap on, much less play it. "Why should I do something just because you told me to?"

Quon Yue rolled his eyes, which were now the annoyed stormy blue-gray color. "I am not ordering you to do it because I want you to, jackass. You didn't give me a good reason for quitting guitar, and you didn't even believe your own crappy excuse. Therefore, there is no excuse. I know you have talent, and there's no sense in letting it go to waste. Now play."

Hiro wanted to tell the younger man to go to hell, but he knew he couldn't argue with the logic. Besides, what could a few fingering excercises hurt? It wasn't like he would be playing actual music...

Hesitantly, he put the strap over his neck. Annoyed that his ponytail holder was in the way, he took it out, shaking his hair loose (something else he hadn't done in public in years). Then, taking the pick that Quon Yue offered, he began to play, at first just trying to reacquaint himself with the chords and the fingering that went with them. But he was surprised when songs he hadn't played in years began to flow out. Even more surprising was that Quon Yue was only sitting in his corner, watching him with rapt attention, his eyes a curious sky blue color that Hiro had never seen. That alone was enough to make Hiro miss one note, and he stopped playing, cursing himself, both for losing his concentration and the resulting mistake, and for letting himself get so out of practice.

"Very nice," Quon Yue praised, though Hiro couldn't tell if he was being sincere. "You only missed one note. Not bad at all for someone who hasn't played in years, anyway."

"You seem to know a lot about it. Do you play?" Hiro asked, taking off the guitar and offering it to Quon Yue, only to be refused and mocked by bright blue eyes.

"I played a lot of instruments. Piano, guitar, drums, trumpet, flute, clarinet...I had a lot of free time on my hands as a kid," Quon Yue told him with a shrug. He lit another cigarette, blowing out the match and throwing it into the trashcan. Hiro noticed that he didn't seem to be bragging. He also spoke in the past tense.

"'Played'? Why don't you play anymore?" Hiro asked.

Quon Yue held up his left hand. The nicks and cuts on it had already scabbed over, but with his pale skin it looked ghastly. "No feeling in my hands. Not since I was twelve, anyway. A major nerve was severed in each one or some shit like that, I wasn't paying attention. But it is very hard to work on activities that require your fingering to be _just so_ when you can't even feel your hands at the ends of your arms. As it stands I can barely perform simple tasks, like holding a cigarette, writing my name, or opening a can of soda. That's also why I play the knife games. To try to develop my hand-eye cooridination and because it tends to gross people out when I miss."

Hiro flinched and refrained from asking what had happened to make him lose feeling in his hands. Quon Yue used the lip of the trashcan to snuff out his cigarette, letting it fall in. Then he removed his own ponytail holder and vest, throwing them in a corner.

"Well, we're stuck here. Might as well settle in. At least we have a TV in here," Quon Yue announced. Just then, the lights flickered and shut off completely. "Or not. Guess it's a good thing we stocked up when we did..."

Hiro blinked a few times, his eyes adjusting to the darkness. He actually found himself wishing Tokui was there instead. At least the boy always had a flashlight and plenty of batteries on him...

Quon Yue's sillohuette was barely visible below the window as he sat still on the floor. He didn't seem at all bothered by this turn of events, and that thought disturbed Hiro.

"Isn't there anyone that would miss you?" he asked, to break the silence again.

Quon Yue shook his head, though Hiro could barely see it. "Nope. I live alone on the other end of the district. Well, my cousin lives with me, but he's big, dumb, lazy, and doesn't speak a lick of Japanese. If he's even awake I doubt he'll be able to put two and two together and figure out it's almost midnight and I'm not home. Might get pissed about me not having dinner, though."

"That's right. You're Chinese..." Hiro muttered.

"That I am."

"Where in China are you from?"

Quon Yue shrugged. "I'm not from China. I was born in Japan. My mother was born in Beijing, though. She moved here with her family when she was ten. So I spoke Cantonese pretty much since I was able to talk. Interestingly enough, though, my stepfather was from Hong Kong, so I learned to speak Mandarin, too."

That actually was interesting for Hiro. He only spoke Japanese and barely spoke English, but this other man spoke at least three languages.

"My turn," Quon Yue announced.

"What?" Hiro asked, jarred from his thoughts.

"To ask a question." Quon Yue elaborated. "When did you first meet Shindou-san?"

Hiro closed his eyes, trying to remember. "Christ, we couldn't have been older than four. He was a the only boy on the playground with pink hair¹ and was eating a strawberry ice cream cone, and he was a little small for his age. Some boys hit him, made him drop his ice cream, and made him cry, so I pushed the boys down and gave him my Pocky. We've been best friends since."

There was the glow of a flame as Quon Yue struck a match and lit another cigarette, shaking his hand to put the match out and pitching it into the trashcan. After that, the only light in the room was the dull red point of his cigarette. "That story was sickeningly sweet. Your turn."

"My turn?"

"Question, dumbass. This is a Q&A game, right? We keep going, questions get more probing, we see who is the first to duck out."

"I wasn't aware that this was a game."

"It is now. So start asking some juicy questions if you want to win."

Hiro gave this serious consideration. He _would_ like to ask the so far mysterious Chen Quon Yue a deep, probing question, but he knew that for every one he asked, he would be asked one equally as probing in response.

"All right. What's your natural hair color?" he asked at last.

"That's a wussy question. Ask another one," Quon Yue ordered.

"No. I want the answer to that one."

"If you ask me that one, I'll ask you how long your dick is. Now ask another one."

Hiro smiled smugly. "I win?"

"No. It's just a damn stupid question. You can ask me anything in the world, and you ask my _hair color_? I mean, come on."

Hiro sighed. "All right. Fine. Why do you cross dress?"

Quon Yue smiled slightly, though Hiro couldn't see it. "That's more like it." He took another drag from his cigarette, snubbing it out using the edge of the trashcan again. "Well, if you want the short answer, it's because I don't think of myself as male."

Hiro nodded. "My producer was like that. He's a she now."

"No, not like that. I don't think I'm female, either."

Hiro quirked an eyebrow. "Hate to tell you this, but you have to be one or the other."

Quon Yue laughed a bit. I don't know how to explain it. I don't feel I identify with either sex. I find the stereotypes surrounding them make them too restrictive. So I declare myself to be genderless or beyond gender, and I don't have to stick to those rules.

Hiro nodded skeptically. All right. I can see how you don't like the stereotypes, but not everyone on earth can be that way, no matter how much you want them to be.

But I don't want them to be, Quon Yue insisted. It's like this: think of any industry in the world. I'll say onions for the sake of this example. So we have the onion farmers. They represent the continuation of the human race. They grow onions and ship them all over the world. The overwhelming majority likes onions, or at least enough people to keep the onion industry booming and the onion farmers in good shape. They represent the heterosexual masses and people who identify securely in their gender role. Then we have the people who just dislike onions. They hate the taste of them, and ignore them when offered them. They represent the homosexuals of this world, the people who, by no fault of their own, find themselves unable to join the majority of the world because of this taste. Does the onion industry fail because of them? No. But chances are they get ridiculed for it, and people offer them onions and try to get them to eat them even though they don't want them, just like homosexuals often have people forcing the opposite sex on them. Then we have the smallest percentage, those who are allergic to onions. These people are actually harmed by onions, and therefore avoid them at all costs. These represent people like me, who don't identify with any gender, and people like your producer, who don't identify with the gender they were born as, and go through a great deal of pain in their lives as a result. Does the onion industry fail because of them? No. Does the human race fail because about 3 percent of the population, three percent of _six billion_, for whatever reason, will not reproduce? No. And the world is overpopulated, anyway, so a few people removing themselves from the gene pool is probably a good idea. Understand what I'm getting at now?

Hiro was surprised. He had figured that no matter how strange, annoying, or downright evil Quon Yue was, he was at least reasonably intelligent, but he had no idea he was so philosophical. Hiro was also starting to pick up that maybe he wasn't as evil as he had first seemed, even if he did like to be in control all the time.

My turn, Mr. Suit, the young man said, cutting into Hiro's thoughts. And I'd better make it good, he added sadistically. Hiro could hear a can of soda opening, and there was a pause as Quon Yue either thought or took a drink. You told me earlier that you slept with Shindou-san, and other than that you were best friends. Have you ever wanted to be more than that with him?

Hiro was glad for the darkness, for he could feel the color draining from his face. He took a drink from his own can of soda, fumbled with a bag of chips, then cleared his throat. Sometimes. Once or twice. When we were in high school I did imagine being with him once in a while, but he never showed the same kind of interest, so I ignored it. I didn't even know he was gay until we were nineteen, but then, I don't think he did, either. Then he was with Yuki Eiri and I met a girl named Ayaka that I thought was the one, but she left me and I found myself thinking about Shuichi again. Then he got into an accident, the same accident that cost him his arm, and Suguru, the keyboardist of our band, helped me out, but after the band broke up he announced that he wanted to go to America to find himself and I wasn't invited, so I knew it was over. Probably just as well. He went to find himself and all he did was find drugs and lose what little of himself he had to begin with. And again, when he was gone, I found myself thinking about Shuichi. I had a few other little relationships doomed to fail, plenty of one-night stands, but lately I've been getting more lonely than even I can believe, and I find myself wanting Shuichi more than ever. It's so glaringly obvious even he noticed it, and he's a bit dense on subjects like that. Hiro sighed deeply. I don't think it's so much that I love him. Of course I do, on many levels, but we both agreed a long time ago and again recently that any situation with us as lovers would probably end in catastrophe, so we don't love each other in that way. Besides, he's been with Yuki Eiri for seventeen years now. I think he's in it for the long haul. Has far more patience then I give him credit for, that's for sure, since Yuki Eiri is one of the coldest, most insensitive bastards you could ever have the misfortune of meeting, and all he ever does is make Shuichi upset, and everyone knows that if Shuichi is ever hurt or upset then God help the one who upset him, because I can and have inflict bodily harm on those who do upset him. It's been that way since we met. It's how we met in the first place. But Shuichi thinks Yuki Eiri is God, and has for almost twenty years, and if I can't convince him otherwise no one else will. So, is that enough of an answer for you?

Your turn, was the only response he got, so Hiro assumed he had answered the question to his satisfaction.

How old are you, anyway? Hiro asked. Then he had a thought. That's not my question for the game. I honestly want to know. If you want to hold that until after the game is over, you can.

Nah, I'll answer, Quon Yue said with a sigh. I'm eighteen.

Hiro quirked an eyebrow. The way you talk and act, I assumed you were older. Only eighteen?

At last count. My birthday was June sixth. I'm a Gemini. In fact, my appearance is supposed to be a physical representation of the sign of Gemini. Or as close as you can get with one person. Now, do you have a real question?

Hiro gave that serious thought. Actually, I do. Tell me, why are you so interested in Shuichi?

There was a long moment of silence, and for a moment Hiro wondered if he had . Then Quon Yue's voice ended that thought. You're going to think I'm nuts, if you don't already, but the reason why is because when I was younger I was a huge fan of his. I was a lonely kid. Really quiet. Got picked on a lot. I had nothing to call my own. Then I saw a Bad Luck video playing on a TV in a store, and I...fell in love, pretty much. I fixated on him. Not only was he good looking and talented, but just so unpredictable. I couldn't wait to find out what he said or did next. He was everything I wished I was. And now that I'm older, thinking back he was a big inspiration to me. He made me want to sing. And I'm happy to know he's smaller than me. I like people who are smaller than me. People who are bigger than me tend to intimidate me.

Hiro was completely taken off guard by this response. The more he talked to Quon Yue, the more human he seemed. Finally, he said, slowly, Shuichi modeled himself after someone else, too. Sakuma Ryuuichi of Nittle Grasper. He even went as far as to try and look like him. He worshipped him from junior high on. But he also realized that he had to be his own person, since people were looking for something new, not a rehashing of something old. But I can safely say you realized that already.

Quon Yue was quiet for a very long time. Finally, he asked, in a voice so soft that Hiro could hardly hear it, Do you think I'm a freak?

Hiro looked at the floor. Before that night, he would have been quick to say yes. In fact, he probably still would have, had Quon Yue not asked him in a voice that seemed desperate for confirmation that he was, indeed, human.

Not a freak, Hiro said at last. Different. Very, very different. There's nothing wrong with that.

You don't mean that. But I guess I deserved it. When I was a kid, I was small, quiet, and lonely. And easy to pick on. I was Chinese, I didn't have a father, and I had a defect in my eye. I was very smart, but that was all. It was enough to make the teachers make a token effort to reach out to me once in a while, but other than that no one paid much attention to me or cared what happened to me. So I decided that I was going to be really different, so different people would notice me and wouldn't dare pick on me.

Hiro suddenly felt ashamed for thinking Quon Yue was evil. He was arrogant, yes, and quite manipulative, but he had a feeling that there were good reasons for that. He decided he was only going to ask one more question, and after that resign from the game.

What happened to your father? Hiro asked.

He was Japanese. He met my mother when she was sixteen, slept with her, and left her when he found out she was pregnant. I never knew him. I know he used to be signed onto this label and was a singer in a band. And I know his name. But I've never made an effort to find him. I'd probably hurt him.

Hiro found himself interested. He knew most of the artists that had been signed in NG's brief history. So he forced himself to ask. Off the record and game aside, what was his name?

Hiro was never prepared for the answer he got.

According to my mother, his name was Aizawa Tachi.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~ 

It was just after midnight when Yuki woke up from a nightmare, sweating profusely and breathing heavily. Shuichi, who had been curled up against him, arm around him, was sent flying backward at this, and thus was awakened by the sudden gesture.

Yuki? Are you all right? Shuichi asked softly, rubbing the sleep from his eyes and removing his tie and jacket, throwing them both into the corner and wondering how the hell he had fallen asleep with them on.

Yuki looked at Shuichi, blinking slightly, as if trying to remember who he was. Then he nodded, his breathing returning to normal. Yeah. Yeah, I think I am. Just a nightmare, that's all.

Shuichi wrapped his only arm around Yuki. Is it about what happened to you?

Instead of answering him directly, Yuki stood up, causing Shuichi to sit back on the bed. Is Tokui asleep?

Shuichi stood up, removing his shirt and pants and socks and throwing them on the floor, pulling on a T-shirt of Yuki's from the wash that still smelled like him and following him out into the hallway. As far as I know. Why?

My nightmare. It was what happened to me, only it was happening to him. I want to know that he's all right.

How can you tell it was him? He looks just like you did, Shuichi pointed out, but he followed him into the office.

I just knew. It was my nightmare, I think I know it a little better than you, Yuki snapped, opening the door to the closet slightly and looking in. In the dim light he couldn't see anything, so he turned on his desk lamp before opening it a little further. Tokui wasn't sleeping in the unmade bed that had been placed there just that day, causing Yuki to enter panic mode. He slammed the door and stomped out of the room into the hall.

Yuki, if he isn't in there, he can't have left the apartment without setting off the alarm. He doesn't have the code, Shuichi pointed out, shutting off the lamp and following his angry and worried lover.

There wasn't an answer. Shuichi stepped into the living room, where Yuki was standing, Tokui sitting bleary-eyed in the middle of the couch, wrapped in a blanket. He yawned, then looked at Yuki fearfully, causing Yuki to sigh with relief and throw himself into his chair.

the boy asked timidly.

It's all right, Tokui, Yuki reassured, putting his face in his hand. I had a bad dream about you and when you weren't in your bed I panicked.

I-I can stay in my bed if you want... Tokui offered meekly.

No. I've restricted you enough as it is. You can sleep anywhere you want in the apartment. I just panicked, that's all.

Shuichi leaned over the back of Yuki's chair. Yuki, are you sure you're all right? Do you want something to drink? Water? Tea?

Yuki replied. He suddenly looked up, facing Tokui. Have you been to bed at all yet?

Yes, Eiri-ojisan, Tokui confirmed with a nod.

Did you take your new medicine?

Yes, Eiri-ojisan.

Good boy.

Shuichi handed Yuki his beer and sat down on the couch. So is our nightly crisis over?

Yuki sighed and opened his beer can, take a long drink of it. Pretty much. Dammit, I am so sorry, Tokui. For a lot of reasons.

None of it is your fault, Yuki, Shuichi said firmly. The nightmare _or_ what happened. And it's not your fault that Tokui is like this, either. So just go to bed, and in the morning we can worry about pulling our lives together. All three of us. Got it? At any rate, I've got work in the morning, and Tokui, your tutor is coming in the afternoon, isn't she?

Tokui nodded, and Yuki just sighed. He didn't want to deal with anyone, let alone Tokui's teacher. Amai had gone to school normally, but when she was signed to NG she agreed to finish her work at home as a independent study and graduate early so she could focus on her music career.

So get to bed. Both of you. Yuki, you need anything else?

Doesn't work with liquor.

Go to bed.

Yuki finished his beer, left the can on the coffee table, stood up, muttered something about Shuichi being in no position to order him around, and disappeared into the hall.

Shuichi sighed at this display, turned to Tokui, and put his hand on his shoulder. What were you doing on the couch, Tokui? he asked softly.

I had a bad dream, he said quietly.

Shuichi didn't bother asking what him having a nightmare had to do with him sleeping on the couch, since the boy was known for making strange connections like that.

Go to sleep. You've got school tomorrow, he said at last, standing up and walking into the hall. Good night, Tokui.

Oyasumi nasai, Shindou-san, Tokui shouted back.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Touma removed his reading glasses, rubbing his eyes tiredly, and resting his pen on the desk. He looked at his desk clock, saw that it was around midnight, deduced that it would be around ten in the afternoon in New York, and picked up the phone, dialing the overseas operator to connect him to a familiar number.

After a few rings, there was an answer. a cheerful but polite voice asked in English.

Touma asked, forcing the foreign name awkwardly over his Japanese-accustomed tongue. He cleared his throat and continued (in English, though the boy spoke Japanese) This is Seguchi-san. Are either of your parents home?

Oh, yeah, just a second, Seguchi-san, Alexander answered in Japanese. He could hear a slight click as the receiver was placed on a table, the muffled call of Dad! Phone! in English, and then a few moments of silence as Touma waited patiently for someone to pick up.

Most people assumed that because Ryuuichi and K had been living together for so long that Alexander had been adopted by both of them. In all actuality, he was biologically Ryuuichi's, the product of a short-lived relationship he had engaged in while conducting his solo career in America. When the boy was three, he had been abandoned with the two men, and K had adopted him and raised him as his own. But anyone who saw Alexander would realize there was no possible way he couldn't be Ryuuichi's son.

But even though Alexander looked like Ryuuichi, he actually acted more like K. This was probably better all around, since when K had adopted him his own son, Michael, had decided that his father had moved on and wanted nothing to do with him, and had refused to have anything to do with his father, instead attaching himself to his stepfather. This had been a blow to K, and he had begun to dote on his adoptive son as a result.

Finally, a familiar voice said, in English, 

Mr. K? Touma asked.

The one and only, K confirmed, still in English. And who is this?

Touma answered.

Seguchi! Sorry, it's been so long since I've heard your voice I didn't recognize it, K said in Japanese, obviously surprised that his former employer was calling him.

It's all right, Touma said, smiling slightly and trying to fight off his own tired feelings.

Actually, I was just getting ready to call you, K told him.

Touma asked with interest, pulling the receiver of his phone away as he yawned.

Yeah. Two days ago your cousin appeared on my doorstep. He's been crashing on my couch during the day and at night disappearing to parts unknown. And dammit, does he ever look like hell.

Touma suddenly felt himself growing very angry. You didn't give him any money, did you?

No. If he wants to go to hell in a hand-basket that's his priority, but he can leave me and my family out of it. I'm kicking him out as soon as he wakes up. And I'm saying you ordered it, since I have a feeling that's what you were about to do. Anyway, I assume this isn't a pleasure call, since it's after midnight there. What's on your mind?

I actually called about Alexander. By the way, why isn't he at school?

He graduated a year early, and before that he was home-schooled. He's just staying here until his music career gets going. So what about him?

Well, first, you and Sakuma-san are coming to my wedding, right?

Yes, as far as I know. It's at the end of this month, right?

Correct. But I wanted to know if you three could come a little sooner. And if my cousin is there, put a gun against his head and force him to come with you so I can put him in rehab.

With pleasure. But why?

A new idea. Actually an idea of Shindou-san and the new manager's: Neo Grasper.

Neo Grasper?

Right. My daughter, Ryuuichi's son, Noriko's daughter. Neo Grasper.

I'm intrigued. And I'm sure Ryuuichi will be thrilled at the idea as soon as he hears about it. But shouldn't you ask Alex about that?

Actually, I would rather you did. Preferably while on the way here. You see, I haven't quite sold Amai on the idea yet, and I think if I can get her, Alexander, and Saki in the same room she'll see what a good idea this is and back down.

You mean you want to put her on the spot so she'll say yes. I'm warning you right now, Seguchi: don't force your kids to follow in your footsteps if they don't want to. But I think I will do that. Ryuuichi has been excited about going to Japan and seeing you again, Alex has been excited about visiting there for the first time in ten years, and I am about due for a vacation. The firing range is doing well, but it's a little more stressful than I thought. Alex has been helping me with it, but he's been busy himself lately. Plus I want to get Fujisaki back to Japan so you can get him to straighten up and fly right. He wants to get better. He really does. He just needs a push in the right direction, and I think you're the one who should do the pushing.

Then it's settled. You can stay at my house. There are plenty of extra bedrooms, and it has a ramp and an elevator because the last owner was an elderly, wheelchair-bound man.

Sounds perfect. We'll be there...I'll get back to you on that, since we still have some things to get in order, plus I don't know when the next flight to Tokyo is. Plus I still have to run the idea by the others. But I'll keep Fujisaki here and bring him with me when we do arrive.

That sounds good.

Seguchi, you sound tired. Hang up the phone an go to bed.

Yes, of course. And tell Ryuuichi-san that I said hi.

Fine. See you soon. Good bye.

Touma audibly yawned this time. Good bye, Mr. K, he said groggily in English, hanging up the phone.

Now all he had to worry about was telling Amai that Alexander was on his way in the morning...

**End of Chapter Five**

¹ There is absolutely NO indication in the anime that Shuichi dyes his hair, nor is there in the OAV. As far as we know, it's natural. In the manga, he DOES dye his hair, but it's naturally burgundy and he dyes it _blonde_ later, not pink. Just because he has hot pink hair does not mean he dyes it, since anime has all sort of interesting hair colors that are, as far as we know, natural in their world. (Like Noriko's is violet and Suguru's is dark green.) I am mostly using anime continuity, but I use some details from the manga, namely K's son, Michael.


	6. Past and Future

Disclaimer- Go back to the first chapter for that (though if you are six chapters into this fic and honestly think that I own Gravitation, then you probably need to get checked for recent head trauma).

Heart's Façade

Chapter Six: Past and Future

Written by A Girl Named Goo

"You owe me big," Hiro muttered, stirring his coffee and taking a large gulp of it.

Shuichi was taken off guard. He was the one who had to take the bus that morning because someone didn't pick him up and bring him to work like he usually did, and he was the one that owed Hiro? But by the look of Hiro's rumpled clothing, the dark circles under his eyes, and his loose and messy hair, Shuichi had already deduced he had a good reason. And by Hiro's bad mood, he was willing to guess that it wasn't something pleasant.

"Okay, I give up," Shuichi said at last, taking a drink of his soda (he'd never cared for the taste of coffee). "What'd I do?"

"It's your fault I have to work with Chen Quon Yue," Hiro accused, as if this explained all.

"Hiro, I'm sorry, but it's not my fault! Seguchi-san hates me, but he promised Yuki he'd leave me alone. Going after my friends is his way of getting revenge. I'll talk to Yuki about it, but he doesn't like you all that much, either."

"That's not what I meant," Hiro muttered, sitting at the table and taking a bite out of a plain glazed doughnut from the box in the center of the table that Shuichi had brought with him. Shuichi was already half-finished with his own strawberry frosted. "Chen Quon Yue is your biggest fan."

"Excuse me?" Shuichi asked around a mouthful of pastry.

"You are to Chen Quon Yue as Sakuma Ryuuichi was to you. He doesn't model himself after you exactly, but you're the one who made him want to sing in the first place, and you're the one that made him want to get signed onto this label. Therefore I am blaming you for me having to work with him," Hiro further clarified. "He informed me of that last night while we were stuck here with no heat and no electricity. I got two hours of sleep collectively all night. I don't know how the hell he did it, but he's all bright-eyed and bushy tailed. He's up in the studio with his session band and Kyousei Himeko recording a few tracks. As soon as I wake up a bit more I'm going to ask Seguchi-san for a day off. Last night had better count as overtime..."

Shuichi suddenly gave Hiro a one-armed embrace. "Poor, poor Hiro. Forced to spend the night in a cold, dark building with an evil Chinese man..."

"As much as I appreciate your sympathy, at the moment what I really need is sleep," Hiro told Shuichi, though he wrapped his arms around his smaller best friend. "Do you know if Seguchi-san is in a meeting or anything right now?"

Shuichi backed away from Hiro and looked up at the clock. "As a matter of fact, he is. He and Amai have been fighting all morning. I have never seen her so pissed."

"Shit," Hiro said softly. Then he noticed something out of the corner of his eye and turned around with a start. Standing between two vending machines was a tall man with neatly cropped dark hair, wearing a black suit (complete with black shirt and tie) and donning dark sunglasses, holding a black briefcase. In his right ear was what appeared to be a barely noticeable speaker. In contrast to all the black he looked quite pale, though not as pale as Chen Quon Yue.

Shuichi also noticed the man, but he didn't seem at all startled. He looked at Hiro, who was recovering from his scare, and smiled. "Hiro, this is Rosuto Koji, Amai's new manager. And Rosuto-san, this is Nakano Hiroshi, Amai's old manager before he was reassigned."

Hiro didn't comment on the odd name¹. He just offered his hand, which the man ignored as he placed his briefcase on the table and opened it, making sure it was at such an angle that Hiro and Shuichi couldn't see what was inside.

"Nakano Hiroshi," Koji said at last, his accent distinctly un-Japanese. "Preferred name: Hiro. Born and raised in Tokyo, Japan. Dropped out of school your twelfth year after nearly graduating top in your class. Formed Bad Luck around roughly the same time. You are thirty-five years old, your birthdate is August eighth, your height is one hundred seventy eight centimeters, your weight is sixty-two kilograms, your blood type is B, you have a genius IQ of one hundred sixty five, with the band Bad Luck you sold collectively more than twelve million albums, having released seven albums during your eleven-year career. You were briefly engaged to Kaiyou Ayaka, formerly Usami Ayaka, now married to Kaiyou Katsuhiro and living in the lower end of the district with her husband and five children. Had a brief romance with keyboardist Fujisaki Suguru who moved to Los Angeles and recently New York where sources tell me he has problems with drug abuse, namely cocaine and heroin. You are currently renting a storage facility on the west side of the district, contents of which is a motorcycle and three guitars. Interesting, as you live on the eastern end of the district. You were also recently billed by Seguchi Touma for one new carpet- white- and one new table- oak- and will probably be billed by him for the three vending machines you vandalized with Chen Quon Yue last night at approximately twenty-three thirty² while stuck here in a snowstorm. Don't worry; if he doesn't ask I won't tell."

Rosuto Koji closed his briefcase, nodded curtly, then took a grape-jelly filled doughnut out of the box in the center of the table.

"How the hell do you know all that?" Hiro asked with both anger and amazement.

Koji swallowed the mouthful of doughnut he was chewing on and smiled slightly. "If the need to know is strong enough, you can find out just about anything."

"And you had a strong need to know about my life?"

"I have a strong need to know about everything. Good day, Nakano-san. Shindou-san, Amai is still preoccupied with her father so take your time. And I believe Tokui was last last seen in rehearsal room three."

With that, Rosuto Koji disappeared from the room.

"I really want to see Seguchi-san's hiring policy," Hiro said after a few seconds. Then he turned to Shuichi. "Aren't you supposed to be watching Tokui?"

"Yuki fired his tutor and is having him do independent study, and he feels bad about something he did last night so today we agreed that as long as he doesn't leave the building and meets me in the rehearsal room where we usually meet with Amai then he can wander about unsupervised."

"I see..." Hiro said, finishing his doughnut and coffee. "Hey, you want to meet someone?"

"Who?" Shuichi asked.

"A couple of someones, really. I had to meet your new manager, so it's only fair that you meet my new producer and act. Besides, if Seguchi-san and Amai are going at it then they probably won't be done for a while. What is wrong with them now, anyway?"

Shuichi sighed. "Last night Seguchi-san called Mr. K and Sakuma-san and told them to come as soon as possible and bring Alex with them. I guess Fujisaki is with them so they are bringing him with them so Seguchi-san can check him into a rehab center. But Seguchi-san's main goal was to get Alex, Saki, and Amai in the same room and put them on the spot so they have to agree to Neo Grasper. Fortunately Amai doesn't blame me for discussing the idea with her father in the first place- I honestly didn't think he'd get this excited about the idea- but now Amai is majorly pissed at him."

"I can't say I really blame her. She likes to have control of a situation. Just like Seguchi-san. If she is backed into a corner she comes out fighting like a wildcat, and I know that she's a little more short-tempered and verbal than Seguchi-san is."

Hiro pressed the button on the elevator, waiting for it to open. He looked down at Shuichi, noticed there was some strawberry frosting on the corner of his mouth, and reached down and wiped it off, licking it off his finger without giving it a second thought.

"Thanks, mother," Shuichi said tauntingly, before noticing Hiro eating it off his finger, causing him to blush slightly and face the floor. The elevator opened, and two people climbed out before Hiro and Shuichi could get in. Hiro pressed the button that took them to the third floor and leaned against the wall.

"There are days I wish I had listened to my parents and gone to medical school," Hiro muttered, rubbing his temples.

Shuichi slipped his arm around his best friend. "My poor, poor Hiro. I think you would have made a good doctor."

"Well, when we were kids we certainly enjoyed playing doctor enough. Though most of the time you were the doctor and I was the patient," Hiro muttered, though he wrapped an arm around Shuichi's shoulders.

Shuichi giggled. "And people wonder how we ended up gay...."

"You're gay. I'm bisexual. If a good looking woman crosses my path I still stop to admire the view. Though your mother and my parents were more than a little suspicious when we were sixteen and still having sleepovers where we shared a bed."

"I like to keep my Hiro close," Shuichi said, beaming up at Hiro.

"I'm yours now? You have to make up your mind. You can't have both me and Yuki. I don't think Yuki wants to share you, and I know I don't."

"You've always been mine. And I've always been yours. But you give me to Yuki, and I give you to....whoever you want, as soon as you find someone."

"Sounds like a good deal," Hiro said softly as the elevator door opened, though in all actuality it didn't sound good to him. While his rational half was screaming not to think about it because it could never work, it was currently being conquered by the half of him that could only fixate on the small man pressed against him and how wonderful it felt to have him that close.

Hiro stepped out of the elevator, Shuichi still clinging to him, and pushed open the door to the recording studio. Kyousei Himeko was standing on one side of the glass behind the sound technicians who were busy operating the mixing boards and other sensitive equipment. On the other side was a large assortment of session musicians: a guitarist, a bass player, a drummer, two keyboard players, and even a trumpet player and a violinist. Standing in the center of the session band was Chen Quon Yue, hair still loose and somewhat greasy from not having been washed that day, his vest failing to conceal the blood stains on his white T-shirt.

But what both Hiro and Shuichi noticed first were his eyes.

Hiro was amazed he hadn't seen it while recording the previous day. They were narrowed in concentration, sweat pouring down his face as he forced each word out with a passion that made both men think of only one thing, and that one thing was confirmed by the blue-violet his eyes had turned as he sang out each verse, each chorus, each bridge: whatever possessed Sakuma Ryuuichi while he sang had to be possessing Chen Quon Yue right now.

Hiro and Shuichi stood silently next to Himeko as he finished the track. The music faded out, and the musicians slumped over tiredly.

"Get up, you lazy asses!" Quon Yue ordered, his eyes shifting from blue-violet to bright blue, breaking the spell on Hiro and Shuichi. "That's only one! We have to keep going!"

Hiro knocked on the glass separating the soundproof recording area and the mixing area. Quon Yue looked over at the glass, then walked over to the door, stepping out of the area and over to Hiro.

"Mr. Suit!" Quon Yue said with what sounded like sincere surprise. "I thought for sure you'd stuck me with the producer chick and left, since you didn't sleep at all last night."

"And you did?" Hiro asked skeptically.

Quon Yue stretched. "I've slept in worse places. At least this was indoors and the heat kicked in at about four. So, you rang?"

Hiro nodded. "Shuichi, this is Chen Quon Yue, and right behind him is Kyousei Himeko. Kyousei-san, Chen, this is Shindou Shuichi."

Shuichi shook hands with Himeko, who noticed his absent right arm and smiled sympathetically, making Hiro want to groan. He then offered his hand to Quon Yue, who was standing speechless only a few feet away from him. Quon Yue started to extend his left hand, noticed the dried blood and scabs all over it, and quickly hid it behind his back.

"I-It's an honor to m-meet you, sir," Quon Yue choked out.

Hiro raised an eyebrow, seeing Quon Yue's nervous expression. His eyes had turned almost white now, making his defective left one all the more obvious, but a blush was crawling over his face.

Shuichi giggled. "Hiro told me you were a fan, so I just had to meet you. By the way, you sounded great in there. You reminded me of Sakuma Ryuuichi for a bit."

"Th-thank you, sir," Quon Yue replied too quickly. He looked down at the floor. "I mean, I'm not nearly as good as you, but-"

"You're better. Trust me. Sakuma Ryuuichi was better than I could ever hope to be, and I think in there you were taken over by whatever spirit takes him over when he sings. You even had the same eyes!"

"That means a lot coming from you, sir," Quon Yue said sincerely, nodding.

"Chen, if you're about done, Shuichi needs to get to work downstairs and we need to discuss something in the rehearsal room," Hiro interrupted.

"Yes, of course," Quon Yue agreed. "He must be a very busy man. I mean, he's Shindou Shuichi, after all, and-"

"Nice to meet you, Chen-san!" Shuichi said brightly, taking Quon Yue's previously hidden left hand and shaking it. "I look forward to hearing your CD when it comes out, and I hope to see you perform."

Quon Yue was dumbstruck at Shuichi's actions and words. Shuichi released his hand and left the room, waving over his shoulder as he disappeared from sight.

After Shuichi had been gone for a few minutes and Quon Yue had had a chance to recover from his encounter, Hiro cleared his throat, causing both Himeko and Quon Yue to look at him, Quon Yue's eyes dark and indifferent again.

"If that's all settled, I'd like to handle some things downstairs in the rehearsal room," Hiro announced.

Himeko looked at her watch. "I'm afraid I'll have to postpone joining you. I have an appointment I need to get to."

"You have a lot of appointments. What gives?" Quon Yue asked, his eyes turning bright blue.

Himeko sighed and took a card out of her pocket, handing it to Quon Yue. When Hiro looked over his shoulder to see what it said, she handed him a second one. Printed on the card was a logo that read "Fifth District Real Estate". Beneath the logo it said "Kyousei Himeko, Senior Vice President".

"You have a second job?" Hiro asked, pocketing the card.

Himeko just sighed again and nodded. "Well, not entirely. My family owns that business. My sisters and I are running it currently, since our mother has Alzheimer's and my brother is in medical school. Mother is the founder and president. But because I'm the only one who went to business school I end up attending most of the meetings."

"But why become a record producer if you already have a job?" Quon Yue asked, pitching the card over his shoulder.

"I was a record producer before Mother got sick and I had to take over the business. You're not the first person I've acted as a producer for, you know, and you most likely won't be my last. I've been with NG for twenty years now."

"Twenty years?! How old are you?" Quon Yue asked bluntly.

"Old enough to not want to answer that question. Now, if you'll excuse me, if I stay here any longer I'll be late for my meeting." And with that Kyousei Himeko left.

Quon Yue looked at the door for a moment, shrugged, and lit a cigarette. "So let's go, Mr. Suit. Hopefully we can do what needs to be done without producer chick around."

Hiro pushed open the door to the studio and left, walking over to the elevator and pressing the button. When it opened Quon Yue pushed past him and walked in, still smoking. The ride to the second floor was passed in silence, Quon Yue finishing his cigarette and dropping it onto the floor of the cab, stepping it out. Hiro flinched, but didn't say anything.

As they walked toward their rehearsal room, Hiro could hear music playing faintly. He stopped for a moment, causing Quon Yue, who was walking behind him, to stop. Listening to the music, he turned around and followed it in the direction it was coming from, stopping in front of a different rehearsal room, different because this one had several instruments stocked within, including a grand piano (which was both a mystery and a joke to the employees at NG, for no one knew how Touma had managed to get it in the building in the first place, let alone on the second floor). It was also different in that it was a rehearsal room that only Seguchi Touma or anyone he gave permission to could go in and use the instruments.

Hesitantly, Hiro pushed open the door and looked in. The room was still dark, so he had to strain to see, but finally his eyes rested on the grand piano in the center of the room. Sitting on the bench, playing a breezy tune effortlessly and not knowing he had an audience, was Seguchi Tokui.

Hiro opened the door further, staring in, amazed at the boy. He'd had no idea he was so talented, though he had to admit that with so many musically talented people in his family it was probably impossible for him not to be. Quon Yue appeared at Hiro's side and watched him as well, and they stood there for several minutes before Tokui happened to glance at the open doorway.

His fingers all hit the keys in a single, flat note, before he slammed down the lid over the keys. He was hyperventilating, and he grabbed his inhaler from his sachel, taking two deep puffs of medicine.

"I-I'm sorry, Nakano-san!" he said quickly, eyes filling with tears and a barely noticeable blush crawling into his cheeks. "It's just...Tousan told me I could come in here whenever I wanted to...but if you want to use that room then go ahead...I won't bother you! Please, use it!"

"Tokui, it's all right. We don't need the room," Hiro reassured. "You didn't do anything wrong. We just wanted to hear you play."

Tokui seemed to notice Quon Yue for the first time, gasped, and shrank back. "I-I see. I am so sorry. I shouldn't be in here. I'll go."

He walked bravely toward the door, causing the two men standing there to part automatically as he darted toward the staircase. Hiro swallowed and closed to door to the rehearsal room. He'd always felt bad for the boy, cursed with horribly low self-esteem and a belief that no matter what he was doing something wrong. Hiro had no doubt that he lived a tortured existence, hiding himself away because he felt himself unworthy of joining the rest of the world. Only his sister and uncle could ever really reach him, as much as he could be reached. Sometimes Hiro felt a strong desire to reach out to the boy himself, if anything just to end his own desperate loneliness. Hiro had to admit that Tokui was quite good looking, though those thoughts always made him ashamed. Not only was he less than half his age and still a child, but he was the only son of his boss and the beloved nephew of his rival.

"Who was that?" Quon Yue asked softly, his eyes that peculiar sky blue color that Hiro had so far been unable to assign an emotion.

"Seguchi Tokui. Seguchi Touma's son," Hiro answered.

"He doesn't look like Seguchi," Quon Yue observed.

"He looks like his uncle, Yuki Eiri. Which I suppose is good, since Yuki Eiri might be a cold and insensitive bastard, but he's a damn good looking one. Seguchi-san's daughter Amai, on the other hand, looks and acts exactly like him. It's almost creepy."

Quon Yue didn't answer. Hiro looked over at him to see his eyes were still the same sky blue color, looking in the direction that Tokui had ran.

"He's been hurt," Quon Yue said at last. Hiro raised an eyebrow and glanced at him, and Quon Yue continued. "Something hurt him badly. Is still hurting him. He thinks he's worthless, that he shouldn't be seen by the rest of the world. He was hiding, wasn't he?"

Hiro swallowed. If he had been that accurate gauging Tokui, then he shuddered to think what Quon Yue thought of him. "He does that. A lot. He prefers small, enclosed spaces where no one can see him. Closets, pantries, empty rooms, the like."

Quon Yue nodded slightly and looked down at the floor, following Hiro obediently. Hiro could see a single tear in the corner of his eye, and for a moment thought he had imagined it.

"Oh my God...you like him, don't you?" Hiro asked suddenly.

Quon Yue looked up, the tear falling down his cheek. His eyes were the icy blue that Hiro knew meant he was in trouble. "I feel bad for him. I am human, for chrissakes!"

Hiro clenched his fists, ready to defend himself from the younger man if it was necessary, though he knew bare fists against a knife really wasn't an even match.

"Stay away from him," Hiro ordered. "He has it bad enough as it is. He's not like other boys and probably never will be. He doesn't need you corrupting him."

Quon Yue narrowed his eyes, and for a moment Hiro actually feared for his life. "Don't tell me what to do, Mr. Suit. I have absolutely no intention of hurting him. I don't hurt anyone unless they deserve it, because I know what it's like to be hurt and to be hurt badly. You don't know me, Mr. Suit, and at the rate you're going you never will, but when I was younger I got hurt very badly and very often for absolutely no reason. So don't tell me to stay away from someone because you're afraid I'll hurt them, because you know jack shit about me."

And with that Quon Yue stomped past the rehearsal room they usually used and toward the stairwell.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~

"And the most ironic thing is I was about to cave in and tell you I would do it because I felt bad about not liking your fiancée, but you had to pull this stunt and ruin that! Now I wouldn't go along with it even if it was the greatest idea of all time!" Amai shouted at her father.

Touma looked unmoved at his desk, having engaged in much worse shouting matches in the past with his daughter. He didn't say anything in response, knowing when he was beaten and not wanting to exasperate the situation. The way Amai worked was she would be angry and put her foot down, Touma would let her have her way, and eventually she'd cave in and try the other way, if just out of curiosity. Touma had been much like her at her age, before his experience with Nittle Grasper had taught him to get a handle on his feelings and start thinking what would be good for others and not just himself. Having a best friend who was willing to die for him didn't hurt, either, as it had been Ryuuichi's companionship that had help forge the man he was today.

"You're not going to say anything?" Amai asked, her rage not having subsided.

"You're right. I shouldn't have backed you into a corner. I thought I was doing what was best for you, and unfortunately I didn't take your feelings into consideration. I could only remember my own experiences with Nittle Grasper and the strong bonds I formed with Noriko-chan and Ryuuichi-san, and you don't have many friends so I thought you getting to know Saki and Alexander would remedy that. But I shouldn't have forced you to follow in my footsteps if you didn't want to. Unfortunately, it's too late to call Sakuma-san and Mr. K and tell them not to come because they have Fujisaki-san with them and I would like to get him into rehab as soon as possible, but after I introduce you to Alexander- since you haven't seen him since you were six- you are free to do what you like. I will even cancel my meeting with Noriko-chan and Saki if you would like me to."

Amai seemed surprised. Seguchi Touma hated defeat, and he hated admitting that he was defeated even more. His daughter and possibly Yuki Eiri were the only people on earth who had ever went against him in a debate and won, and it was a painful truth he didn't wish to confront often.

Before Amai could speak again, the phone on Touma's desk rang. He picked it up, knowing very few people had the direct line to his office (others had to be rerouted through the front desk). "Moshi moshi," he said.

"Seguchi! Glad I caught you!" a familiar yet tired-sounding voice said cheerfully. "We just got in. We meant to call you sooner, but your phone kept ringing busy."

"Mr. K! I was about to call you!" Touma said with genuine surprise and enthusiasm.

"Well, whatever you have to say you can save until you can pick us up. We're stranded at the airport right now," K explained.

Touma quirked an eyebrow. "I see," he said in English, hoping Amai wouldn't understand. "I am currently speaking to my daughter, but I will be there as soon as I can."

"Thank you. We'll be here," K replied in English before disconnecting.

Touma hung up, looking up at Amai, whose dark eyes were fixed on him.

"You'll be there as soon as you can, will you?" Amai asked in English. "You forget I passed English, and I am still learning it independently."

Touma smiled and stood up, picking up his feather-fringed coat and putting it on along with his hat and tugging on his gloves. "Yes, I am afraid I did," he confirmed in Japanese. "I get so busy I forget that you are still studying even though you are finished high school, and you are a very intelligent girl. Would you like to come with me?"

Amai shrugged. "If there is enough room. I mean, you said Mr. K and Sakuma-san are coming, and they are bringing Alexander and Fujisaki-san, so including you that's five people."

"I will stop by the house first and get my van. I would have had to, anyway."

Amai nodded and followed her father out of the office, giving no thought to the fact that she and her father were currently dressed identically. In the halls people had trouble telling father and daughter apart on normal days, and usually called both "Seguchi-san" to be safe. The few people on a first name basis with one or the other always assumed both were Touma to be safe, as while Amai always took being mistaken for her father as a compliment, Touma didn't share those sentiments.

As they entered the hall they passed Hiro, who blinked at the seeming double vision, walked beside the first figure that the second seemed to be leading them.

"Seguchi-san?" he asked, not trying to guess which one was which.

"Nakano-san," the one he was speaking to acknowledged, and Hiro knew he was speaking to Seguchi Touma.

"I was wondering, sir, if I could take the day off. I'm sure you've heard about how I ended up staying the night here, and my act left, anyway, so I really don't see any reason to stay."

"Yes, of course, Nakano-san. As long as you still do your job and remember our deal you can take all the time you need," Touma told Hiro off-handedly. "Now, if you don't mind, I'm busy. Remember to check in with the receptionist before you leave."

And with that, Touma and Amai left Hiro standing in the hall behind them.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~

The airport was packed with people, many of them angry about having had their flights postponed or cancelled and either having to leave early or having arrived at their destination late. Occasionally the public address system would crackle on, spit out it's barely coherent messages, and crackle back off.

Amai looked around here, straining through her sunglasses in the already dim terminal. She looked over at her father, who was also scanning the crowd. Finally, he saw something that caught his attention and began walking, his daughter close at his heels. Sure enough, standing next to the baggage claim, was a small group of people: a tall man with short blonde hair and piercing blue eyes, his shoulder holster barely noticeable under his faded dark blue jacket, a small man in a wheelchair with somewhat long brown-green hair and bright, glittering blue-violet eyes with a one-legged pink stuffed bunny in a special harness on the back of the chair; a young man who looked roughly the same height and weight as the wheel-chair bound man, wearing a red hairband to keep his long brown-green bangs from his blue-violet eyes, his own shoulder holster slightly better concealed (though not entirely invisible) beneath his denim jacket, and, interestingly enough, had a blue stuffed rabbit tucked under his arm; and a fourth figure that was wearing a hooded sweatshirt with the hood raised to conceal it's face, hands jammed firmly in it's pockets.

Touma and Amai stopped in front of the small group, and the man in the wheelchair's eyes lit up. He pushed himself forward and grasped Touma's leg firmly.

"Touma!" Ryuuichi shouted excitedly. He released as Touma leaned forward and embraced his best friend and former bandmate. He had heard about the accident that had caused Ryuuichi the use of his legs (and Kumagorou one of his) but he hadn't actually seen the man since he had been confined to the wheelchair.

Touma looked up at the others and shook hands with K. "It is good to see you all," he said, one of his rare genuine smiles lighting up his face. Years ago, when Touma and Ryuuichi had still been in high school, Ryuuichi had told Touma that he smiled too much and that he wished he would save his smiles for when he was happy. Touma had tried it, but he quickly realized his smile was as much as tool as a mask.

"It's great to see you, too," K agreed. "For many reasons. We've been here for two hours now."

"Then let's go," Touma said with a nod. K and the younger man both took two bags, and Amai and Touma each took two others, Ryuuichi keeping a pace with Touma and Amai standing just behind both men, the sweatshirt-clad figure standing between Amai and K and the young man.

One out in the van with everything pack up and everyone situated, they pulled out into the busy Tokyo traffic.

"Sorry I didn't make the introductions in the airport, but it was so crowded and I figured you were tired of standing there," Touma explained. "In back is my daughter, Amai. And Amai, sitting up here next to me is Sakuma Ryuuichi. You probably don't remember him. And in the middle seats are Crawd Winchester- better known as K- and my cousin, Fujisaki Suguru. And sitting next to you is Alexander Sakuma-Winchester."

Ryuuichi turned around and waved, smiling sunnily. "Hello!"

K also turn and looked at the girl. "I'd heard you'd grown up to look just like your father, but I didn't think you'd look that much like him. I thought I was experiencing deja vu back there. Alex, say hi." Alex looked at Amai, waved slightly, and resumed looking out the window. K sighed. "Sorry about that. He's usually much friendlier. Just the plane trip was long and hard and we've been stuck in that airport all day."

"Mr. K, when did you cut your hair?" Touma asked, looking in his rearview mirror at the man in question.

K sighed and looked down at the floor mats. "I didn't want to. It's embarrassing, actually. I have no culinary skills, as you well know, and Alex and Ryuuichi, the usual cooks, were both sick with the flu so I had to fend for myself. And lets just say that long hair and gas stoves don't agree with each other."

"You lost all of it?" Touma asked in amazement.

"Well, up to about halfway up to my shoulders, but the rest was badly singed. Even the best beautician in Manhattan couldn't do anything with it, so I just had it all cut off. This was all two years ago, by the way. It took me 52 years to get it that long, and I'm not counting on living to see 104, so I am not trying to grow it out again."

Touma pulled into the large garage of his mansion and killed the engine. The door to the van was slid open, and everyone automatically piled out. A few reached for bags before Touma said to leave them for the maid, and with that they trekked into the palatial estate.

Much of the house was decorated with a Victorian motif, with mostly dark carpeting and furniture with dark wallpaper and many lamps scattered about, and floral designs everywhere. Anyone who stepped into the living room alone would deduce either that Seguchi Touma was more feminine than they originally believed or that he had hired an interior designer (it was the latter, along with Amai's flair for room themes).

Once everyone was shown to their rooms to get some well-deserved sleep, Touma pulled his cousin to the side to speak with him face-to-face for the first time in almost 3 years.

"Don't get too settled in," Touma instructed firmly. "You will only be staying here until you rest and recover from your jet lag. Then there is a rehab center a few districts away expecting you. And I am not letting you leave the house until then."

Suguru just nodded, his face hidden beneath his hood.

"Take off that sweatshirt, Suguru. The heating here is more than adequate," Touma ordered.

Very slowly, Suguru peeled off the sweatshirt. Beneath it he was wearing a plain black T-shirt, but that wasn't what Touma noticed that made him gasp and suddenly feel ill. The man standing before him was just an empty shell of what had once been Fujisaki Suguru. Always lean, he was now bone thin. His once neat and glossy dark green hair was now dull and mattered and didn't look as if it had been washed in at least a year. The bones in his face were visible, as well as the dark circles under his eyes, made all the more obvious by his sickly pale skin. He also had thin bruises running up his arms along the veins, trackmarks from his heroin use. His once glittering brown eyes were glazed over, and he sniffed, his nose sounding stuffed.

"What have you done to yourself?" Touma asked, reaching out and taking his cousin into an embrace.

"I didn't want you to see," Suguru said softly. "That's why I didn't come back to Japan sooner. I didn't want you to see what I'd become."

"I am going to get you some help, Suguru. Don't worry. I'll make sure you get better."

"I hope so," the younger man whispered, though his voice was completely devoid of hope.

End of Chapter Six

¹ Rosuto is the Japanese pronounciation for "lost", and Koji means "orphan". Considering his obvious secret agent roots and the fact that he doesn't seem to be Japanese, this is probably some kind of code name.


	7. Friends and Enemies

Notes- Chen Quon Yue's name is always written the Asian way. Chinese given names are always two syllables and the family name is always one, so Quon Yue is his given name. And his name is pronounced "Chen Gwong Way". Also, in this chapter I use a lot of Chinese. I am NOT trying to show off since, since 98% of it is cut and paste. It's just that I bought a new Chinese language CD to help me in my writing and, dammit, I'm gonna use it. So just use this as a learning experience. (I actually bought it because I have two original series with Chinese characters.) And the last note: yes, that is why Aizawa was called "Lazy Eye". He doesn't technically have a lazy eye, but notice he has no close-up shots or just profile shots until Episodes 6 and 7, where you see a full shot of his face for the first time. Just one of those little nuances of the series that make it so great. ^_^

Heart's Façade

Chapter Seven: Friends and Enemies

Written by A Girl Named Goo

"I am NOT going," Shuichi announced, reading the invitation. "Besides, I'm not personally invited. I'll go to the wedding because I was personally invited, but if Seguchi-san or Sakano-san can't find it in their heart to invite me to their engagement party, then I am simply not going to go."

Yuki took the invitation from Shuichi before he could do something like rip it up or throw it away. "It says I can bring a guest."

"Bring someone else. I don't care. I HATE Seguchi-san's dinner parties."

"I thought you liked formal affairs?"

"I USED to. Then I went to Seguchi-san's last dinner party. He started out with one glass of wine at dinner, moved on to a scotch on the rocks, and by the end of the night he was plastered. Then he sent me downstairs to the basement for more wine, and when I finally came back he was hitting on you! And even worse, you weren't doing anything to stop it!"

Yuki couldn't argue with that logic. His former brother-in-law was the type who didn't drink often, but once he started he had trouble stopping. Yuki, on the other hand, had been a casual drinker for a good portion of his life and alcohol had little to no effect on him.

"You've been known to do some pretty crazy things when you're drunk," Yuki said at last. "I'll do you a favor and refrain from discussing them at length, but I will say that I hardly think Touma is going to hit on me or anyone else at his own engagement party, drunk or sober."

"I still don't want to go," Shuichi muttered. "He obviously doesn't want me there. Otherwise he would have sent me an invitation instead of having it be implied on yours."

"All the more reason to go. Make him regret not inviting you."

"Because that's not the way he works. He didn't invite me to see if I'd come with you, anyway. Then at work either me or Hiro will have to suffer for me coming. Frankly, I'm not in the mood."

"Fine. It's your perogative," Yuki said at last, though in his mind he was already making a note to call Touma and tell him to send Shuichi an invitation, not so much because he wanted Shuichi there with him, but more because he knew how disappointed Shuichi was at not having been invited, something Yuki would have to suffer for later. He wasn't going to miss his former brother-in-law's engagement party because his own live-in lover was deciding to be difficult, but he wasn't going to catch grief for going, either.

Shuichi was sitting in his chair next to Yuki's in his office, watching him write. "I also got some interesting news from Hiro today."

"He's going to move to America and find himself the same way Fujisaki did?"

"You wish. Speaking of which, Seguchi-san called while you were in the bathroom. Mr. K, Sakuma-san, and Alex are here and they brought Fujisaki with them. Though don't kill yourself returning the call; everyone's asleep and Seguchi-san saw Fujisaki's condition and brought him to the rehab center right after he called."

"Is that your news?"

"No. First, I got to meet my biggest fan today. He nearly had a heart attack when he met me. He's Hiro's new assignment, and I'm the reason he wants to sing. He isn't evil at all. Not that I can tell, anyway. Certainly strange, and there's something familiar about him, but he seemed nice enough to me."

"That's wonderful. Is that it? Because I'd like to finish this novel sometime this century. It's already late," Yuki muttered with no enthusiasm or sincerity (or even a clue that would let Shuichi know he was at least listening to him) as he continued to type.

"No. The second bit of information Hiro gave me was that Chen Quon Yue, my biggest fan, is interested in Tokui of all people," Shuichi announced, forgetting the boy in question was in the closet. "Hiro told him to stay away from him, but Chen-san started saying how he seems hurt and that he knows what it's like to be hurt and that he wants to help. He seemed really sincere, I guess, because he got really defensive and then stomped away before Hiro could say anything or ask him about it."

Yuki stopped typing and turned to face Shuichi. "Who is this guy, anyway?"

Shuichi shrugged. "Everything Hiro tells me about him is bad, but I personally don't see anything bad about him. But then, he doesn't like you, either, and I love you. When I shook his hand it was all cut up, though. He tried to hide it from me at first. Hiro says he did it himself playing knife games because he has no feeling in his hands, but it definitely supports the theory of him being hurt."

Yuki nodded, thinking for a moment. "He could be good for Tokui. I mean, he doesn't really have an friends. He doesn't talk to anyone but me and his sister. Maybe someone who can sympathize and understand is just what he needs."

"If Tokui is capable of making friends. He's a good, decent, sweet person, but try telling him that."

Yuki sighed. It was a sad but true fact about his nephew: the boy had horribly low self-esteem with no chance of ever gaining self-confidence. It would be a miracle to get him to trust others, and an impossibility to get him to like himself. Not sure of what else to say or do, he continued typing.

"Yeah, that's what I thought, too. But who knows? Miracles do occasionally happen."

What they didn't know was that the boy in the closet was listening to every word they said...and taking it to heart. Tokui knew they were worried and that they meant well, but it hurt him nonetheless to hear them talking about his lack of social skills. And how could a stranger who knew nothing of him possibly like him? If this strange person really did like him, even just a little, Tokui might indulge him slightly, if just to be nice. That is, if this person liked him enough to actively search for him. He hated to see others hurt, and from what Shuichi said (and Hiro confirmed) this man was hurting.

Swallowing, Tokui resumed his scribbling on the notepad in front of him.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Hiro didn't bother kicking the slushy snow off of his shoes as he walked in and looked at the slip of paper in his hand. Yes, this was the correct address. He looked at his surroundings again and sighed. He'd hoped he'd been wrong, but he wasn't. He was inside a dimly lit and very cold and damp corridor of an apartment building. There was a stairwell that wrapped around the wall all the way up to the last floor, with a single door each floor in front of a balcony-like extension of the stairs, including the ground floor. Graffiti in several different languages was scribbled on the walls, and the floor was stained different colors (Hiro didn't want to think about what had made them).

He began to trek up the stairs, wondering if they were going to give out as they creaked beneath him. At the end of a few ledges were people slumped over, many without jackets and holding bottles. He kicked bottles and cans out of the way every time he walked down a new ledge to a new set of stairs.

Hiro finally got to the fourth door and hesitated before knocking, as he could hear loud fighting between two men in a language he couldn't understand on the other side. He finally knocked, and almost immediately a tall, broad, tanned, and intimidating man with glassy dark eyes and messy short brown hair answered the door, wearing nothing but a pair of jeans even though the draft from the apartment was just as chilly as the one in the hall.

"Excuse me, but does Chen-san live here?" Hiro asked nervously.

The man gave him a confused looked before saying "Dùi bù qi, wo bù míng bái."

Hiro blinked, then tried to think of how to phrase what he wanted to ask. "Does Chen Quon Yue live here. Chen Quon Yue."

The man nodded, then turned to look into the apartment. "Quon Yue! Moon!"

"Yat jan!" was the response from somewhere in the apartment. Finally Quon Yue appeared, wearing blue boxer shorts and a white tank top. For the first time Hiro could see that he had several scars on his shoulders and chest, and he had a feeling whoever gave them to him had positioned them so they could be easily hidden by a shirt. His hair had been separated once again, and the two colors were in separate braids, and all of his jewelry was still in place. His eyes turned from the angry ice-blue color to the mischievous bright blue color, and there was blood leaking from a small cut on the corner of his right one.

"Mr. Suit!" Quon Yue exclaimed with genuine surprise. "You're lucky you didn't get mugged four times on the way up the stairs alone dressed like that. Get in here."

Hiro hesitated (especially since the other man was glaring at him) and stepped in, Quon Yue shutting the door behind him.

The man looked from Hiro to Quon Yue, his eyes angry. "Kui jiaò shén me míng zì?"

"Kui jiaò Nakano Hiroshi. Hui yi ga!"

"Cuò wù! Nei hui!"

The man sat on the couch and glared, and Quon Yue sighed deeply. "I told you he was stupid. That's my cousin, Lún Si, by the way."

"Did he..?" Hiro started, pointing at the cut.

"Huh?" Quon Yue asked, then he touched the corner of his eye, looking at the blood. "Damn. No, he didn't. He's so stupid he couldn't hit the broad side of a barn with those meaty paws of his. I was getting a glass out of the cupboard when we started fighting and dropped it, and when I went to pick up the pieces I hit my head on the counter."

Hiro didn't believe him, but he really wasn't in any position to question his judgement. He looked around the tiny apartment, which was cold and smelled damp and musty, much like a cave. The ceiling was so low Hiro and Lún Si's heads were mere centimeters from touching it, and the carpet was threadbare and an ugly brown color that still looked dirty and stained though it should have hid it. The only furniture was a bed and clock through an open door on the other end of the room, a card table and two folding chairs in the kitchen, and in the living room a horrible green-and-brown plaid couch, a TV tray with a lamp without a lampshade resting on it, and another TV tray holding a black-and-white television set with large antenna sprouting from it. The television set was turned on, though Lún Si had no way of understanding what was being said as he watched intently, eating what appeared to be a bowl of cereal. Next to the entrance of the apartment was a door to what Hiro assumed was some kind of closet, but strangely enough it didn't have a doorknob. There was only one other door, and Hiro assumed that lead to the bathroom, though he wasn't going to ask to use it to find out.

"I assume this wasn't a courtesy call," Quon Yue said idly, picking up a wet washcloth and wiping off the tacky yellow Formica countertop, though it still didn't look clean. "You're on the wrong side of the tracks."

Hiro sighed. "I wanted to apologize for what I said to you earlier. You're right; I don't know anything about you. But what I do know I don't like. Maybe if I got to know you better I'd like you better, but until then I won't. And I really think it's best if you stay away from Tokui. He has horribly self-esteem and always thinks he's doing something wrong, especially if someone is watching him. You suddenly start paying attention to him he'll quite possibly have a panic attack."

Quon Yue sighed deeply, motioned to the table (Hiro hesitated before taking a seat, disliking how the metal of the chair bent a little beneath his weight), and opened the refrigerator. "Would you like something to drink?"

"What do you have?"

"Soda. Beer. Water. Possibly milk if the moron didn't put an empty carton back into the fridge as he tends to do."

"Soda sounds fine. I'm driving."

Quon Yue suddenly started laughing as he slid the soda across the table and lit a cigarette. "If you parked your car in this neighborhood, you're walking home. If it's still there when you get back down there it'll be stripped. I guarantee it."

Hiro groaned at his own stupidity. Most of the people who lived in this part of the district were dirt poor and desperate enough to strip a stranger's car for cash, if they didn't find it nice enough to just steal the whole thing.

"That's what happens when you make the mistake of driving yourself into a bad neighborhood," Quon Yue taunted. He flicked his ashes onto the floor and opened his own can of soda. "I grew up here. In this very apartment. I'm used to it. Now you know why I had to worry about getting beat up. Just beat up if I was lucky. I was little, cute, and foreign. Three strikes against me right there."

"How did you come to own this apartment if you were raised here?" Hiro asked, looking around and wondering where there was room for Quon Yue and his previously mentioned mother and stepfather. He also found himself wondering where Quon Yue and Lún Si slept.

Quon Yue dropped his cigarette on the floor. "My stepfather died. My mother moved back to China. I was 13, didn't know how to find a new apartment, and my family technically owns this one so I just stayed."

"You were abandoned when you were 13?"

"That's one way of putting it, yes. Right after it happened I went temporarily insane and tried to find my father for about four months. Then I snapped out of it, realized if he wanted nothing to do with me up to that point there was more a chance of a snowstorm in hell than of him feeling sorry for me and taking me in, and started to put my life together. Slowly, piece by piece. That's right around the time I discovered Shindou-san, too. Sadly, that was the last year you were touring, though, so all I had were tapes and tabloids."

Hiro swallowed and looked at Quon Yue's eyes, which were the distant dark blue color that meant the younger man was reminiscing. He was hoping that he had just dreamed what Quon Yue had said about his father, since it was difficult enough for him to like him without remembering who had been responsible for his existence in the first place. But Hiro also knew that he deserved to know who his father was and what he had done. It might even help him to know that having Aizawa Tachi as a paternal influence wouldn't have benefited him, and he seemed the type to enjoy the irony of his idol being the one who his father had hated so much he had destroyed his own career in an attempt to destroy him.

"I know your father," Hiro said in a tone that he hoped sounded offhand, like he were merely discussing the color of the drapes.

Quon Yue choked on his swallow of soda and dropped his cigarette into the soda can, making a slight sizzle. "You're bullshitting me."

Hiro shook his. "Aizawa Tachi was the leader of the band ASK. They were our rivals when we first came out. We being Bad Luck, of course. I also know what he did that got ASK thrown out of NG."

Quon Yue nodded and looked down at the table. "What did he do?"

"I don't think you want to know."

"I do. I want to know who my father was, what he was like, so I can do and be the complete opposite."

"Trust me: you are already the polar opposite of Aizawa Tachi except for your arrogance and smug attitude."

"Tell me. Please. I have a right to know."

Hiro took a deep, shuddering breath, regretting having brought up the topic in the first place. "Bad Luck was much more spontaneous than ASK, and as a result we became much more famous much faster. Aizawa was a spiteful, jealous man, not content to be runner-up to some newcomers when things were just starting to go his way. And most of all, he hated Shuichi. He hated his music, he hated his style, he hated his spontaneous nature. He hated everything about him. And he especially hated the way Shuichi went out of his way to pretend he was no one when they met in person. So one night, after Shuichi had a fight with Yuki Eiri and was thrown out of his house, he came to see me, got a little drunk, and I told him to go home because chances were things had blown over. When he went to get on the subway he wasn't disguised and was recognized, and it was Aizawa who saved him from a crowd of fangirls. He brought Shuichi to his apartment and...."

Hiro stopped. It wasn't his story to tell, and Shuichi would never actually get into detail about what had happened. Hiro had pieced it together from the film Yuki Eiri had recovered and given to him, knowing that if anyone could be trusted with that horrible piece of evidence it was Shuichi's best friend. Because Shuichi would never directly discuss what had happened to him, Hiro had used a darkroom from NG's public relations department to develop the film himself when the curiosity got the best of him. He was hardly able to look at the pictures before he burned them and the negatives and spit on the ashes. But even though it was Shuichi's story to tell and Hiro had no right to tell it, Quon Yue did have a right to know what his father had done. So he licked his lips and continued.

"He hired two men to take Shuichi into a parking garage. They attacked him. Beat him. And worse. And all the while Aizawa just took pictures, planning to use the evidence against Shuichi. You see, he told Shuichi he would give the film to the press and tell them it was Yuki Eiri's fault that it had happened unless Shuichi quit Bad Luck. And Shuichi was going to do just that rather than ruin his lover's reputation, but Yuki Eiri recovered the film and I destroyed it. But they left Shuichi with barely enough strength to crawl over across the street from my house and call me there. I was ready to kill someone when I saw what had been done to him. But what happened afterward was Yuki Eiri got the film back, and Seguchi Touma, not pleased at what Aizawa had done at all, pushed him in front of an oncoming car. The car stopped, but Aizawa had an emotional breakdown and spent a year and a half in a psychiatric hospital. After that, I have no idea what happened to him or where he went. I don't even know if he's still in the country."

Quon Yue was very still. And very quiet. His eyes were still dark blue as he looked at nothing, the pupil of his defective eye twitching madly. Finally, he swallowed and, without looking up, whispered "Please tell me my eye defect didn't come from him."

Hiro drew in a deep breath. "His nickname was Lazy Eye."

~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Amai looked across the living room at the older boy stretched along the couch. They were watching some anime (something that Amai had never had an interest in) on her father's large-screen TV but she was keeping her attention on Alex (something that did interest her a great deal). 

"So...um...how do you like Japan?" Amai asked.

Alex shrugged. "I haven't really had a chance to see it yet. I'll get back to you on that."

Amai cursed softly. Alex hadn't been rude when he had said that (in fact, he'd been quite friendly) but she had hoped to divert his attention from the television. She noticed he was playing with the dark blue ribbon around the neck of the bunny he was holding against him as he kept his blue-violet gaze fixed on the program.

"That's a nice bunny. Where'd you get it?" she asked.

Alex widened his eyes and looked down at the stuffed animal. "This? This is Shatekijou, Kumagorou's son. He's named after where my Dad works. I've always had him." He held up the bunny, grinning and making it wave it's paw. He changed the pitch of his voice to say "nice to meet you, Amai!", then diverted his gaze back to the television.

Amai just gaped at the pair. She'd heard her father telling stories of Sakuma Ryuuichi and Kumagorou (he was always quick to bring up that no one had any way of knowing that Kumagorou wasn't a magical bunny that spoke through Ryuuichi, but Amai had a feeling he was trying to justify his best friend's apparent insanity) but she had no idea his son suffered from the same delusion. He seemed to genuinely believe that "Shatekijou" was alive and the son of Kumagorou, and more to the point, he seemed to believe that Kumagorou was alive and communicated through his own father.

But Shatekijou aside, Alex was still a friendly person, and really, his delusion just made him seem all that much sweeter and more endearing. And besides, she'd never met a boy she found to be as attractive as Alexander Sakuma-Winchester, and she was willing to overlook any of his quirks if it meant having a chance to get closer to him.

"I thought you were going to work today?" Alex asked at last as a commercial came on.

"This is work," Amai told him. He gave her a confused look, and she decided to clarify. "Tousan told me to stay here today and get to know you better so I can decide if I want to work with you as Neo Grasper or not. My CD is finished, and my first live concert is a week and a half away with my CD release date just a day before, so I'm not in any real hurry. I don't think I can sound any better than I do right now, certainly can't sound worse, and a day off wouldn't kill me after a year of steady working. And dear lord, I'm rambling, aren't I?"

"It's all right. I don't mind. I tend to ramble about things, too."

Amai sighed, both from relief and humiliation at having made an ass of herself in front of the older, attractive, and (Shatekijou aside) sophisticated boy. She swallowed the lump that had risen in her throat and summoned as much courage as she had ever had in her life (mostly by thinking of how her father would handle this or any situation) and said in a cool, even tone "my father's engagement party is on Saturday. If you're going maybe we could go together."

There was a few moments of silence while Amai held her breath. All of her life she had either been focused on music, her father, or her brother that she had never really made friends, much less asked a boy she hardly knew out on a date.

"Sounds like a plan," Alex said at last. "Don't want to show up at the social event of the season without a date, after all. We'd both look like losers then."

Amai heaved a huge (though, thankfully, unnoticed) sigh of relief, fighting the blush crawling to her cheeks. "All right. A date it is."

~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Hiro had known at the time he would regret it. He had had known it before, he had known it during, and he certainly knew it after. But in the heat of the moment he hadn't been able to resist.

It had started simple enough. Quon Yue had put on a pair of jeans (though no other top or even a jacket) and offered to walk him downstairs to see if his car was there. When is wasn't, Quon Yue had offered to talk to the neighborhood car thieves to see which one had it and call in some favors to get it back (preferably in tact). It took them an hour and a half to interrogate three car thieves (one of which had aimed a gun at Hiro's head and asked for all his money before noticing Quon Yue standing next to him) before they found one who had it (also of Chinese decent, as Quon Yue had spoken to him in either Cantonese or Mandarin). They had already taken it in back and started to strip it, but on Quon Yue's order they quickly reassembled the car and allowed Hiro to drive off in it.

Hiro had offered the younger man a ride home in his car, but seeing how his deathly-pale skin began to color from the heat, he drove past the rickety apartment building to the other end of the district, where his own apartment was waiting for him.

And that was when it had happened...

After allowing Quon Yue to get himself settled in (he'd been fascinated by the large bathtub, fully stocked refrigerator, huge collection of Bad Luck albums, videos, articles, and awards, and a satellite dish that got not only programs from all over Japan, but from the Pacific coast of America and China as well), Hiro had offered him a drink or something to eat. After a quick dinner, the pair had settled in to watch a Chinese program (Hiro had tried to keep up using the action and Quon Yue's infrequent and badly timed translations). Finally, after Hiro had announced he was going to bed and Quon Yue could help himself to anything in the house, Quon Yue had just approached him, breathed "I want you" in his ear, and before Hiro could control himself he was in bed with the younger man.

It hadn't been a bad experience. In fact, it was some of the best (if meaningless) sex Hiro had ever had. Quon Yue was very experienced, and after a little trouble deciding who would be on top, Quon Yue had demonstrated his mastery of both positions. But it wasn't the sex itself that Hiro regretted. It was the fact that Quon Yue was half his age (and, in his mind, still a boy), the son of a man he had hated for at least seventeen years, and that they already had a shaky relationship that was closer to mutual respect and tolerance than anything close to friendship and that they still had to work together each day. Hiro was sure his fragile bond based on respect was probably broken now, and, as he sat in the rehearsal room across from the man in question (Seguchi Touma had informed them personally, in a voice that implied if she did it again she'd be fired, that Kyousei Himeko would not be joining them) Hiro was sure the man was already planning to take advantage of the knowledge of what he had done.

But to his surprise, Quon Yue said nothing about what had transpired the night before, neither before or after recording some more tracks for his CD. The younger man was wearing the jeans he had thrown on the day before, but with a white T-shirt that belonged to Hiro, his hair in a loose ponytail that matched the older man's.

Quon Yue stood and put out his cigarette on the edge of the trashcan, his eyes the neutral black. "Are we finished?" he asked coolly as Hiro finished filling out his paperwork.

"Just about. We have to get you a live performance, probably opening for someone else. But I think I have that covered."

"That's good. Then I'll be going."

Hiro watched in shock as Quon Yue walked toward the door. "Is that all you're going to say? What about last night?" he asked before he could leave, wanting to find out what was on the younger man's mind before he just left for the day.

"Oh, thank you for your hospitality. I'll return your shirt as soon as I can. Hopefully when I am famous I can live in a place as nice as yours."

"Not that. I mean the other thing. What we did."

Quon Yue sighed and leaned against the doorway, crossing his arms and examining his fingernails. "Shindou-san was a fool to give up sleeping with you whenever he wanted, no strings attached."

"That's it?"

"What did you want me to do? Look, you're older than me, yes. But I've slept with men who are older than you are. I have since I was much younger than I am now. It's a little awkward that I work with you, yes, but my sex life and my daily routine are two very different things. I'm at my cousin's throat most of the day and vice versa, but don't think we haven't slept together- though I should note that's largely against my will- and I've met people I absolutely adore that I haven't slept with. I'd love to sleep with Shindou-san, but there is more of a chance of you taking up guitar again and plotting a Bad Luck comeback tour. But that doesn't bother me. And the fact that I slept with you last night doesn't bother me, either. It was great sex, something I've been without lately, and I was glad for the experience. So don't go tearing yourself up over it because your sense of moral decency dictates what we did was wrong. I have no regrets, and neither should you."

Hiro was just left gaping at the empty doorframe as Quon Yue disappeared into the hallway.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Tokui was used to having the stairwells of the NG building to himself, as only maintenance ever used the stairs, and that was only after normal business hours. So when he literally ran into the man known as Chen Quon Yue he was every bit as surprised as he was frightened.

At first Quon Yue's eyes were wide and surprised violet, but they softened to a much more pleasant sky blue as he smiled and held out his hand to the boy. Tokui looked at the pale, cold, and still scabbed-over appendage, taking it hesitantly (only because he thought it was what he was supposed to do).

"It's my lucky day. And here I thought finding you was going to be hard," Quon Yue said brightly. He seemed to notice Tokui's gaze was fixed on his defective left eye, and his smile wavered temporarily. "Don't worry about it. It's a genetic thing, apparently. Had it all my life. You didn't knock me screwy or anything like that."

Tokui swallowed and nodded. Part of him wanted to turn and run from the strange man, at least to somewhere more public. But the larger part of him found, much to his own surprise, that he was fascinated by the unusual person who dressed and acted how he wanted with no regard for others.

"I'm Chen Quon Yue, by the way," he said, bowing slightly. "You can call me either Chen or Quon Yue. Whichever is easier to say."

Tokui also bowed slightly. "Seguchi Tokui," he said softly.

"So you are the elusive Tokui!" Quon Yue exclaimed, as if just coming to a realization. "Why aren't you in a closet somewhere?"

Tokui looked down at his feet. "Th-that's where I was going..."

"Oh. Can I come?" Quon Yue asked.

Tokui gasped. No one had ever asked to accompany him to his hiding places before. When he was very little Amai used to join him, but she'd never ask. She'd just open the door, sit down, and start talking, with no regard for what he was doing. Tokui wasn't sure he wanted to share his hide-out, but he was afraid if he turned down the fascinating Chen Quon Yue he would lose his one and only chance to get to know him, and his instincts were telling him that, strange as he might appear to be, he was not only harmless, but possibly a strong ally.

"Don't worry. I won't hurt you. Though word of warning: I'm a big hair-triggered, so if you touch me in the hall or jump me I'll pull my knife on you. I won't hurt you, though," Quon Yue explained.

"Um...all right," Tokui said slowly. He continued walking down the stairs, aware of Quon Yue's presence behind him. It was a presence that made the hair on the back of his neck stand on end, but not in a bad way. He opened the door to the second floor, peered on the other side, and slinked to the nearest open door. The light was off, and no one was in it, so he darted toward the closet, dimly aware of Quon Yue mimicking his moves. As soon as they were in the closet, Tokui took out his flashlight and turned it on, taking his inhaler from his satchel and taking in two deep inhalations.

Quon Yue looked around the small, cramped space that barely had enough from for the two teens. He appeared to be shaking a bit, much to Tokui's surprise. "I never much liked closets," Quon Yue confessed. "Bad memories. I'll spare you the details. So, this is what it's like to be a member of an exclusive club..."

"Beg pardon?" Tokui asked, sincerely taken off guard.

"Well, how many other people have you let come into the closet with you? Not many, if any, I figure..." Quon Yue said, more to himself than to the other boy.

"Um...just you and my sister. And my sister invited herself."

"That's what I thought."

There was a few moments of awkward silence, Tokui just glaring at the other, and Quon Yue looking around the dark surroundings.

"Nakano-san says you've been hurt," he said solemnly as his eyes turned dark blue. "That's why I wanted to find you." Tokui didn't say anything, so he continued. "When I was a little kid, I was hurt very badly and very often. I think I can understand. And understanding is step one to friendship. Well, at least, I think it is. I have about as many friends as you do. If you have some, then I have less."

Tokui swallowed. He hated talking about himself. As long as he talked about himself, he had to deal with how different and messed up he was. So he just nodded, hoping the subject would be dropped.

"Step two to friendship, as I understand it, is trust. So we have those two things. Step three is honesty, step four is knowing one another as well as you know yourself. We've got two out of four down, and that's enough for me. I assume the rest kind of comes naturally. Is that enough for you?"

Tokui's head was spinning. He found himself nodding dumbly before he could consider if he wanted Quon Yue as a friend or not. Since he had never personally had any friends, he wasn't sure what that entailed, though he had a feeling that Quon Yue was telling the truth when he said he had as much experience as he did.

"Good. We're friends. Glad we've settled that," Quon Yue said with a curt nod. "Now, I am going to step out for a cigarette. I don't like the looks of that inhaler and it'd be mean to smoke in here with you having breathing problems. Filthy habit. I should quit. When I was eleven some older kids thought it would be funny if they got a cute little kid to smoke a cigarette, and threatened to beat the shit out of me if I didn't smoke an entire one. It's true when they say one is enough to get hooked."

Quon Yue stood and opened the door, shutting it behind him as he lit a cigarette. Tokui opened to door a crack to make sure Quon Yue wasn't going to leave so soon. He could hardly believe it: he had never trusted anyone so much in his life, and now he was trusting a complete stranger.

But that didn't matter. He had a friend now, and that was what mattered.

End of Chapter Seven

Translations-

Dùi bù qi, wo bù míng bái. - I'm sorry, I don't understand.

Moon!- Door!

Yat jan!- Just a second!

Kui jiaò shén me míng zì?- Who is he?

Kui jiaò Nakano Hiroshi. Hui yi ga!- He is Nakano Hiroshi. Go now!

Cuò wù! Nei hui!- No! You go!


	8. New and Old

Goo's Note- The astrology stuff is MOSTLY true, considering the charts I made of the characters were made based on if the events of the anime and my first fic took place in end 1999-2000 (meaning this takes place in 2016. I am an astrologer, not a fortune teller, so I don't know what would show up in their charts in that year). Basically what I'm saying is don't take what I say in this as gospel, all right?

Heart's Façade

Chapter Eight: New and Old

Amai grinned as she put the dish in front of her twin brother. "Homemade macaroni and cheese, made with real cheese instead of the processed stuff you're allergic to, and baked. Your favorite."

Tokui picked up the fork and took a bite. It was one of his favorite dishes, but not his absolute favorite. "It's not my favorite," he said quietly. "But it's good."

"Too bad Eiri-ojisan and Shuichi aren't here. I made enough for them," Amai prattled on, scooping some onto her own plate. Like her father she was a great cook, but she only cooked if she was upset or excited. By the way she kept talking cheerfully about anything and seemed to be walking on air, Tokui had to guess it was the latter.

Ordinarily Amai didn't like to spend time at her uncle's apartment. Not only did she prefer to be near her father, but Tokui had a feeling Yuki and Shuichi's relationship made her feel uncomfortable. Despite her father being openly bisexual and most of his friends and acquaintances being gay or bisexual, Amai had never been the most understanding person on earth. Even if she never openly condemned alternative lifestyles (probably because of her father), she still did her best to avoid the people who practiced them or, failing that, the subject. The only reason she was here today was to baby-sit her brother while Yuki and Shuichi went somewhere to be alone ("keep him company" was the term Yuki had used, but Tokui knew better).

"I heard that you made a friend," Amai said between bites of food with a slight lilt in her voice, a sly grin spreading across her face. She took off her glasses she had used when reading the recipe long enough to see her brother start blushing, and continued. "So what's his sign?"

Tokui almost rolled his eyes. Only his sister would ask for someone's astrological sign before even finding out their name. "I don't know. I didn't ask for his birthdate," he answered softly.

"I hope he's a Gemini. Then the mystery would be solved," she continued. Tokui didn't ask what the mystery was, knowing she'd tell him anyway. And sure enough, she did. "When I did your chart this morning Gemini was in the eleventh house. That means you are going to cross paths with a Gemini soon, mostly likely for an extended period of time. Not in a romantic sense, of course. Also, Virgo and Scorpio happen to be in the same house this month. I discovered that when I did your chart, Tousan's chart, and Sakano-san's chart. That's rare, because Scorpio and Virgo are close to each other with only Libra between them so they seldom appear in the same place on a chart. When I saw it in your chart I didn't pay attention to it, since your charts have never come out very accurate, anyway. Comes from being born in the cusp. You keep coming out with more readings for Leo when you are clearly Virgo. But it's in Tousan and Sakano-san's, too. That means if you want to ask Tousan for anything right now is a good time, since it's the closest to him you'll ever get. It's also the closest he'll ever get to Sakano-san, so I think that's influencing why he chose this month to marry her. He'll regret it once Virgo and Scorpio move back to their usual positions. As a rule Virgos tend to lean on Scorpios too much and rely on them for too many things, and Scorpios are too hot-headed and independent to want to take that. Tousan would be much better served by a....hmm...Scorpio is a hard sign to find a match for. I'd have to say Pisces, since they are emotional but independent and calm, or with his opposite sign, Taurus. They might clash at first, but opposite signs usually work out well."

"Who would I work well with?" Tokui asked, though he wasn't sure he was really interested. Like most everyone else Amai tried to discuss astrology with, he didn't really believe in it. Only his father and Yuki had ever told her they didn't believe in it, and Yuki hadn't even wanted to give her his date, time, and place of birth (she'd still acquired them from her mother in the end).

"You would do well with....well, I can't be entirely sure. Like I said, your cusp birthdate makes it hard to pick a specific sign for you, but your Virgo traits make me want to take things as I would a full Virgo. You're also awfully needy, even by Virgo standards. I'd have to say....Pisces. Your opposite sign. Calm, cool, rational, but emotional and empathetic. Creative and poetic. Someone who would sympathize with you. Eiri-ojisan is a Pisces, which might explain why you're so close. And Gemini, if your friend is a Gemini, could be beneficial for you. Gemini, along with the other air signs, are very nice and sympathetic, but a bit on the dense side unless you tell them what's wrong. Geminis are also two-faced. It's the sign of the twins, after all, so they in essence have a split personality, and not in a good way. That means you have to watch out for them saying one thing and meaning another. Also, air signs tend to be really off the wall and strange, which makes them clash with Virgos and other earth-signs, which are more down-to-earth and studious, but usually they clash in a good way."

Tokui just nodded and stirred up his food before forcing himself to take another bite. He'd never been one to eat much, anyway.

"I did Eiri-ojisan's and Shuichi's this morning, too. Boy, do I not envy you. Pisces and Aries are two signs that don't get along, anyway, but this weird Scorpio-Virgo thing pushed Pisces and Aries away from each other. That means they'll be at each other's throats until the sign of Scorpio ends and the sign of Sagittarius begins- November 23. Us being under the sign of Scorpio right now also means Tousan will be more empowered, and Scorpios are scary enough without feeling more empowered. I might just be saying that because Tousan and I aren't on good terms right now, though. Not surprising. When I did my chart Scorpio was only 15 degrees in the fourth house. That means we won't get along for a while. However, Aquarius being 20 degrees in the fifth house proved handy, because my date to Tousan's engagement party is an Aquarius, and if things go well he's the man I want to marry. Aquarius is my opposite sign, so I should have been seeking one the entire time. It'll be shaky, of course, since Leos by nature aren't very tolerant people and Aquarians tend to be nuts, but I'm willing to try to make it work."

Tokui almost choked on his macaroni and cheese. "You have a date? With who?"

A wistful smile crossed Amai's face. "Alexander Sakuma-Winchester," she said in a dreamy voice, when she usually said it haughtily to mock him. She stared off into space (most likely literally) for a few moments before a look of realization crossed her face. "You should bring your friend! Not as a date, of course, because that would ruin your friendship. Don't pursue romance unless Gemini appears in your fifth house. If he's a Gemini at all. But as a guest. I mean, you hate parties and always end up hiding in the coat closet, anyway, so at least you won't be alone."

Tokui could feel his cheeks burning. "I don't think Tousan would want him there."

"It's not about what Tousan wants. He put on all the invitations that everyone on the guest list could bring one guest of their choice. It's your choice if you want him there. Who is he, anyway? And how did you meet?"

So now she asks, Tokui thought, but out loud he said "his name is Chen Quon Yue. He is a singer signed on to NG, and he saw me once when I was playing Tousan's piano and decided that he liked me, so earlier today he ran into me and we talked."

"I've heard of that guy. Nakano-san is managing him. He doesn't like him all that much."

"Nakano-san doesn't like Tousan or Eiri-ojisan, either."

"Touché."

"Besides, he was nice to me. And he's the only person who has ever actively searched for me without expecting a reward from Tousan for finding me." When Amai cleared his throat, he sighed and amended "Besides you. But he asked me if I wanted him around. You always just took for granted that I wanted you near me."

"And you don't want me around?"

"Of course I do! But the point is you just assume I do without me giving any indication that I want or need you by my side, and it makes me uncomfortable when you just barge into closets while I'm reading or try to take my writing before it's ready to show anyone!"

"Sorry," Amai muttered insincerely, taking another bite of macaroni and cheese. The corner of her mouth tugged upward slightly. "Should have known that Virgo appearing in the third house on my chart would mean we'd end up arguing by the end of the day. I just figured that one wouldn't happen because you're...well, you." She dropped her chopsticks into her bowl and pushed it away. "Well, that's why I'm an astrologer and not a fortune teller."

Tokui didn't force the issue. Though he wanted to, he was a non-confrontational person and besides that Amai was notorious for her skills at debate, and engaging her in an argument would get him no where fast. He picked at his food some more, giving every bit of their conversation deep thought before he spoke again (as he tended to to make sure he didn't have to apologize for anything he had said). "Why did you assume I wanted romance with Quon Yue?" he asked finally.

Amai shrugged. "You never talk to anyone unless you really like them. Any sighted person who has seen you in the same room with him knows you have a crush on Nakano-san. And the only other people you really talk to are me and Eiri-ojisan. Now you suddenly come home talking about a friend...well, you must want more than an innocent friendship. And how come you only get crushes on guys, anyway? You have to stop hanging around here so much. They're rubbing off on you."

Tokui suddenly felt a flash of anger. "My preferences have nothing to do with Eiri-ojisan and Shindou-san! They are wonderful people who love me and take care of me and would do anything for me! They are making a huge sacrifice, something I haven't seen you doing lately! And if I am not mistaken, that boy you like has grown up around two men who happen to be lovers! Perhaps you should question his preferences!"

And with that, Tokui stood and stomped off toward Yuki's office, walking into his closet and shutting the door. He slid the slide lock he'd put there himself into place so that Amai couldn't follow him in and threw himself onto his bed, crying until he went to sleep. His sister was one of the few allies he had in the world, and he had just pushed her away like everyone else...

~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Hiro sat down on the park bench, grateful for his warm coat and the steaming cup of coffee in his bare hands. Usually he didn't like to sit outdoors (especially in cold weather) but he had decided after visiting a coffee vendor that sitting on an empty park bench where there was less chance of him being bothered would be better than sitting in the coffee shop full of noisy people and waiters eager to please.

Despite the frigid weather there were several children playing in the snow that had covered the park, some making snowmen or snowforts, and others (mostly boys) engaging in a snowball fight. Hiro had a feeling they were local children from the absence of adult supervision, but he couldn't help but feel he had to act as chaperone as long as he was sitting there doing nothing else.

A bump against his leg almost startled Hiro enough to drop his coffee. He looked down to see a small girl, about six years old, looking up at him with wide, dark blue eyes. She had a rather sweet face and would probably grow up to be a very beautiful woman, and held behind her pink headband with attached earmuffs that matched her bright pink coat was long, dark brown hair. Somehow, she looked quite familiar to Hiro, though he wasn't sure how. As he examined her, she seemed to freeze and return his gaze. Finally she shook her head and said "I'm sorry, mister, but the boys were chasing me."

Hiro smiled at the little girl. "It's all right," he said cheerfully. "And those boys probably think you're pretty. That's why they are chasing you."

She scrunched her face up and made a disgusted face. "Yuck! Boys are icky! They only like to chase me so they can see me fall down and cry and they can laugh. But I don't cry, so those yucky boys have nothing to laugh at!"

"Asako!" a woman's voice called out. "Asako, where are you?"

"Over here, Mama!" the little girl (obviously named Asako) called out in response. She began to walk in the direction of the voice, only to be met halfway by her mother.

"Asako, how many times have I told you not to talk....to...strangers...." the woman's voice trailed off when she saw Hiro, and Hiro blinked a few times to make sure he wasn't seeing things, for standing in front of him, still with beautiful long brown hair (though going gray), a face that men would kill over, and gorgeous deep blue eyes, though with her figure altered by being obviously pregnant, was the woman he knew as Usami Ayaka. Behind her Hiro could see a pair of dark eyes barely looking up at him through too-long black bangs though the rest of the child was carefully hidden behind it's mother, and against her hip she was holding a smaller child of about two with shoulder-length brown hair and dark eyes, obviously female from the lavender snowsuit she wore.

"Ayaka..." Hiro breathed out at last.

Ayaka nodded. "Hiro. It's been a while." She turned to the older girl and handed her the baby. "Asako, take Naoko to find your sisters and play. And stay where I can see you."

Asako nodded and put her little sister down, taking her hand and helping her wade through the semi-deep snow over to where more children were playing. Ayaka picked up the child hidden behind her and placed it on her lap as she sat on the bench next to Hiro. The child yawned and buried it's face in its mother's chest, and Hiro realized he couldn't tell if it was male or female. It had shoulder-length dark hair, large dark eyes, and wore all yellow.

"So...um...I can see you have quite the group," Hiro said conversationally, when in all actuality he wanted to demand how she could leave him so easily without even a second glance back in his direction.

Ayaka managed a small, nervous smile. "Yes. Five, with number six on the way. Another girl, sadly. My husband isn't too happy. Little Hiro here is our only boy, but he's sick and very shy and, as you can see, a bit of a mama's boy."

"Hiro?"

"Katsuhiro," Ayaka further clarified. "They are all two years apart, so it seems I will be changing diapers for the rest of my life. Kaori is ten, Kozue is eight, Asako is six, Hiro is four, and Naoko just turned two."

"Wow. That's...great," Hiro forced, though all he could feel was sadness that this wasn't his family. He actually loved kids and wouldn't mind having one of his own, but if he couldn't even find a date the prospect of children seemed quite unlikely, especially at his age. "I just heard recently you lived in this district."

Ayaka nodded. "Yes. When Father died my husband inherited his business and expanded it all through Japan and relocated the headquarters to Tokyo where most of the profit comes from. It's been a bit of an adjustment for the kids, but I think they are starting to enjoy it."

"That's great," Hiro repeated, hoping Ayaka thought he sounded more sincere than he thought he did.

"So what are you doing with yourself these days?" Ayaka asked after a few moments of uncomfortable silence.

Hiro pointedly looked down at his now nearly cold coffee as he spoke. "Retired from music, bought myself a new place, started working at NG as a manager. Been keeping myself busy, mostly."

"Have you found anyone else? I heard that you broke up with that keyboardist."

Hiro wanted to say "yes, I married a beautiful, rich woman and we have eight kids and a storybook romance", but he knew he couldn't lie. Not only would that be childish, but he knew he couldn't get away with it. Famous or not, what were the chances of meeting another beautiful, rich girl who loved him (or, at least, he thought loved him)? The first time had been nothing but dumb luck, and he wasn't going to hold his breath and pray for a miracle. So he opted for the truth...sort of.

"No. I've been too busy for something serious, really," he explained, hoping he didn't sound like sixteen years, a marriage, and six kids later he still hoped Ayaka would come to her senses and return to him.

Ayaka just nodded. "It's good you've been busy, anyway." Awkward silence. Then she asked him a question that almost made him stand and leave: "How is Eiri-san?"

Hiro would have left, but he looked down at the small child who coincidentally had the same nickname as him and changed his mind. For some reason he didn't want to seem rude in front of him. "He's fine, I suppose. He's still with Shindou Shuichi. They're taking care of his nephew right now." Well, if he had to feel lousy he might as well take her down with him.

Ayaka nodded before finally standing up. "It was nice seeing you again, Hiro. Maybe we'll run into each other some time."

"Yeah, maybe," he all but muttered as she walked away, still holding her son against her. He fought down the urge to chase her down and force her to apologize for stringing him along for nearly a year before just abandoning him and leaving him to pick up the pieces of his life. It might not have fixed anything, but it would have at least offered him some kind of closure.

But Hiro didn't even see Ayaka disappear with her daughters, let alone return to apologize. Sighing, he threw his nearly frozen cup of coffee into the nearby trashcan and stood, walking toward his car.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Touma put his signature on the document before him and placed it in his outbox, sighing deeply as he gazed at the dauntingly large stack of folders and papers awaiting his valuable name still resting in his inbox. It seemed like a good idea at the time. After all, deciding which records would be made had to be easier and just as profitable as actually making them, right?

Unfortunately, this was a bad judgement error on his part. Not only did he walk into his chosen career blindly with no idea of what his job entailed and a gross misinterpretation of his job load, he had underestimated just how many people would turn to him with just about everything, and was surprised to find that's exactly what they were supposed to do and it was his job as president to give them either the approval they sought or put them on the right track.

Of course, more than twenty years had offered him the valuable experience he needed to run his company like a well-oiled machine, and he hoped to one day pass this wealth of experience- along with the entire company- on to his daughter. But that didn't lighten his workload any in the present.

Suddenly, the intercom on the phone on the corner of his desk buzzed. Surprised, Touma set down his folder and pushed the button to open the line of communication. "Sako, whoever it is tell them I'm very busy and not taking any calls at the moment," he said sternly before his receptionist could speak, hoping he didn't sound as annoyed as he was.

"I'm sorry, sachou, but she wouldn't leave unless I at least tried to get a hold of you," a nervous female voice explained.

Touma quirked an eyebrow. Few people could intimidate his receptionist enough to make her go back on an order from her boss. And even fewer people would have the nerve to insist he be bothered while he was working. Whoever this person was must have been damn certain he wouldn't do anything to them.

"Send them in," Touma said after taking a moment to try to figure out who it could be.

It didn't take long for the large oak doors of his office to burst open. Even Touma was startled enough to drop his pen and see who this whirlwind of fury was, every hair raising on the back of his neck as he fought to keep his outward cool. He half-expected a gun-toting psychopath to try to take him hostage, but upon realizing who it was he found he wasn't the least bit consoled.

Standing in the now wide open doors was his very angry looking ex-wife. Her hair was streaked with gray, and there were small wrinkles around her eyes from age and stress, but she was still a frightening sight. While there were a handful of people who knew that Yuki Eiri and his daughter could engage him in an argument and win, almost no one knew that the only person he had ever truly feared in his life was his strong-willed ex-wife, who, though unable to match him in a war of words, could probably easily take him in a war of fists. Not that she had done it before....

"Mika-san," he said coolly, willing his heart to return to it's normal speed and failing. In fact, when she shut the doors behind her he only got more nervous, expecting her to lash out at him for something he had done. Or she thought he had done. Or she thought he was going to do. The few traits Amai had inherited from her mother were her swiftness in jumping to conclusions and her very short and potentially deadly temper.

"Where's our son?" she asked at last, her voice chilly and even though her eyes were blazing. For a moment Touma could see the family resemblance between her and her brother, but didn't have time to dwell on that thought.

"He's at Eiri-san's and Shindou-san's," Touma answered, wondering why she was asking that question. Unless he was at the NG building or going to therapy, Tokui could always be found at his uncle's apartment.

"Then why did I see Eiri and Shindou-san at a restaurant arguing with each other less than ten minutes ago?"

Touma relaxed. Mika might be quick to jump to conclusions, but she was a very rational person once she got satisfactory answers to her questions and accusations.

"They haven't been alone since they took in Tokui, so they went out to dinner."

"Who is with him? Dammit, I thought the only reason we let them take him in was they promised to help him!"

"Amai is. Don't worry. They aren't so stupid they'll leave him in that apartment alone. And they are helping him. He's in therapy now, and he has a diagnosis and the psychiatrist is treating him. He's already made enough progress that he can be trusted not to leave NG if Shindou-san brings him here. He's even made a friend."

"So you gave our daughter to them hoping they could work the same miracle on her?! Is that it?! Are you giving up on both our children?!" Mika cried out. Touma wasn't sure what was bringing on this sudden attack of maternal rage, and was further surprised when Mika threw herself onto the nearest couch and began sobbing.

Touma had never been good with emotions, having trained himself to hide behind a winning smile and keep a chilly distance at all times many years ago. All he could do was take the box of tissues from his desk drawer and bring them over to Mika, handing them to her. She gladly too the box and pulled out a handful, blowing her nose and wiping her eyes.

"Mika-san, Amai is just watching Tokui. I haven't given up on her. She still lives with me. And I didn't give up on Tokui, either. In fact, that's why I let Eiri-san take him. Because I was afraid if I had to sit around helpless much longer I would give up on him, and Eiri-san was his last hope."

"Where did I go wrong as a mother, Touma?" Mika sobbed. Touma flinched. She hadn't called him by his given name since they were married, and even then she had kept the same formality he used when he spoke her given name or her brother's. But once again he didn't have time to process her odd behavior before she continued her hysterics. "What did I ever do wrong? Amai has always chosen to be with you rather than me, and Tokui....he was just too damn sick, Touma! I wanted to help him but I didn't know how! And the more people told me he needed psychiatric help the angrier I got and the more I vowed I would never take him to see a psychiatrist until my younger brother had to take him away from me to help him! Am I really that bad of a mother, Touma? Am I really so horrible that my own daughter can't love me and my brother had to take my son away?"

"Mika-san, you're not a bad mother. Amai only likes to be around me because she is more like me. But she still loves you. And Tokui...not even I wanted to admit he had a problem. It's natural for parents to deny their children have problems because they don't want to think it could happen to them or their children. If someone failed him, it was me. I saw him every day, and I still didn't do anything for him. But we can undo the past. Eiri-san is taking care of him now. Even if we had gotten him help, he probably never would have been close to us. He hardly got close to his sister, and only because she practically forced herself on him and never gave up."

Mika sniffled and seemed to regain her composure, though she still didn't look pleased. Finally, she looked down at her lap and let out a slight, nervous laugh. "I just hope I do it right this time."

Touma raised an eyebrow. "'This time'?" he repeated.

Mika nodded. "My hormones were going haywire, so I went to the gynecologist to see if I was going through menopause and needed hormone replacement therapy, and she ran a pregnancy test just to make sure it was menopause and not something else and the test was positive."

Touma actually found himself speechless, moreso than he had been when he had found out she was pregnant with his baby, and even moreso than when he found out she was having twins and planned to leave him. Mika was strangely quiet until he fought to get his voice back. Then he continued to speak, as calmly as he could (and mentally cursing the shake in his voice).

"You're 46 years old, Mika-san. When it's the twins' age, you'll be 62. You'll be 64 when it graduates high school. It could conceivably grow up alongside your grandchildren."

"I already thought about all that," Mika sighed. "I don't know if I have the strength to go it alone. Most of the time Amai was with you and Tokui was in the hospital or with Eiri, even when they were little babies. But this one...I can't ask you to help me. It's not even yours. And it wouldn't be right to make Eiri help me when he is already raising one of my children for me. But I can't do it. I just can't."

"What about the father?" Touma asked, his heart suddenly aching for his ex-wife. "Does he know?"

Mika shook her head. "He went back to Britain. When I called him he said it wasn't his and hung up. But it could only be his, Touma. I haven't been with anyone else."

Touma sighed and looked down at beige carpet. If it was one thing he hated more than being beaten in an argument, it was being caught not knowing something. Not only did it show weakness, but it frustrated him to no end. "So why are you telling me?" he asked at last.

Mika also averted her gaze to the floor. "I couldn't think of anyone else to tell. And I thought you might know a solution."

Touma stood up and walked over to his large window. It had started to snow again, if only lightly. When he was younger he had loved snow. Now he was fairly indifferent toward it, as he now was toward things that had once made him happy. In order to keep a tight lid on the "bad" emotions, he had also had to sacrifice the "good", something he knew saddened Ryuuichi.

"I don't know what to do, Mika-san," he confessed. "And really, I'm not sure why I am so concerned. *You* left *me*, not the other way around. True, our relationship was falling apart, but you waited until just before our children were born to tell me that. I know we agreed to at least be civil, if for the sake of the twins, but what you are asking is more than I am prepared to give. Financially you have everything you need. All I can tell you is to hire a nanny and figure it out from there."

Mika gasped, then rose from the couch with an indignant air. "I'm sorry for wasting your time," she said angrily, before turning and leaving the room, the oak doors closing behind her with a resounding "thud". Touma sighed and walked back over toward his paperwork, but changed his mind and walked over to the minibar built next to one of the couch, making himself a scotch on the rocks. While his mind was telling him he had done the right thing, something else was nagging him about his harshness. A part of him he thought he had stifled years ago. 

"A damn good time to find out I still have a conscience," he muttered, as if talking to the nagging voice within him. He then tossed back his drink in a single swallow.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Amai was sitting on the couch, reading a book she had found on a shelf in Yuki's office when she had sat in there waiting for her brother to leave his "room", when Yuki and Shuichi came home. And neither looked very pleased.

"How did it go?" Amai asked half-heatedly, too engrossed in the book to notice the less-than-amused expressions on the faces of her uncle and his lover.

Yuki didn't say a word as he retreated to his office. Shuichi sighed and threw himself into Yuki's chair. "Don't ask," he muttered.

Amai looked up from the book and raised an eyebrow over her reading glasses. "Not well, I take it?"

"That's an understatement," Shuichi confirmed, kicking off his shoes (though he should have removed them when he entered the house) and putting the chair in a reclining position.

Amai sat the book aside, making sure she didn't lose her page, and removed her reading glasses. "What happened?"

Shuichi sighed deeply. "Well, we WERE having a pleasant dinner. Then your mother- no disrespect intended- came over and demanded to know why we weren't taking care of her son since we took him from her. I told her that we needed a break and he was being watched, and then she started arguing with Yuki over Tokui and when I tried to step in Yuki started in on ME, saying I couldn't talk to his sister that way. And then she left and we left and we haven't spoken to each other since."

Amai shrugged. "Kaasan is acting weird lately, anyway. At first I thought it was about Tokui, but I think it's something else. When I did her chart this morning, Venus was in the twelfth house. Venus symbolizes love and fertility, and the position means she's keeping a secret. So I think someone broke up with her and she's taking it out on everyone else. It wouldn't be the first time."

Shuichi shook his head. "Did any of your charts happen to say how I can make Yuki talk to me again?"

Amai almost started glowing at the invitation to talk about astrology. "Actually, when I did your chart and Eiri-ojisan's chart, both said that while you're under the sign of Scorpio you won't get along at all. However, at the end of this month when Scorpio ends and Sagittarius begins, then things should return to normal. You see, there's a weird and rare pattern going on right now. Virgo and Scorpio are appearing in the same houses, which is highly unusual for two signs that are so close to each other. But this weird thing is driving Aries and Pisces- which are next to each other- further apart. But after this thing ends then you should be back together."

"Thanks, but how does that help me NOW? By the end of the month he could have me kicked out of the apartment and living with Hiro."

Amai sighed and seemed to give this deep thought. "All right. Speaking as someone who knows you two and not just an astrologer, I must say that it is VERY rare for two signs as incompatible as yours' are to stay together for as long as you two have. If it was going to fall apart, logically it should have fallen apart long ago. That also means that you've weathered some pretty tough situations in the past, probably worse than this one. So while the astrologer and cynic in me both say you two won't last, deep down in my heart I know you two love each other far too much for a little argument or even the stars to break you up."

Shuichi smiled brightly. "You really think so?"

Amai nodded. "Yeah, I do. But don't tell Tousan that I have a case of incompatible signs working. I'm still trying to get him and Sakano-san to realize it'll never work."

Shuichi laughed a little. "On the off chance I see your father, I doubt astrology will be what we discuss. So how was Tokui today?"

It was Amai's turn to wear a "don't ask" expression, but she answered him anyway. "The stars weren't on my side today. I accidentally hurt his feelings and we had a fight. He hasn't left his room since. I heard him crying to a while, but after it stopped I couldn't get the door open to check on him. I was hoping Eiri-ojisan could coax him out, since he trusts him."

Shuichi shrugged. "You told me that Leo and Virgo weren't compatible. But you and your brother have been together almost as long as Yuki and me." He chuckled a little at that remark, but noticing Amai wasn't amused he stopped. "Well, you've always gotten along great. So I think this will eventually blow over. You already know you hurt his feelings. Apologize to him. And don't EVER tell Hiro I've started talking and thinking like him, all right?"

Amai did laugh at that. "All right. It's a deal."

Shuichi stood up and walked by Amai. "That's good. If Yuki won't talk to me about us, maybe he'll talk to me about Tokui. I'll tell him and see if he can get him to come out so you can apologize."

Amai sighed and prepared to swallow her pride. Her fault or not, she hated to apologize...

~*~*~*~*~*~*~

"I was starting to think you weren't going to show up," Quon Yue confessed, looking for a place to put out his cigarette. He finally opened the window of the empty rehearsal room a crack and threw the still-smoldering cigarette out. He tried to wave the smoke out of the room as well, but it was too late: Tokui had reached for his inhaler and was taking in deep breaths of medicine between coughs.

When Tokui finally managed to quell what had threatened to become an athsma attack, he put his inhaler away and looked shyly at his feet. Though he felt he could trust Quon Yue, the older boy still intimidated him with his aura of confidence and defiance. "I have to meet with my uncle's psychiatrist on Tuesdays and Wednesdays," he explained. "The only reason I came here today was Eiri-ojisan had to meet with his publisher and Shindou-san was working late."

"You're lucky," Quon Yue announced. "Shindou-san is the most wonderful man alive, and Yuki Eiri is hot as hell. And you look like him to boot. You don't find coloring like that around here much. Not that I'm one to talk..."

Tokui had expected a comment about him seeing a psychiatrist, but as if the expected comments never being spoken weren't enough of a shock, the fact that he had actually been called "lucky" for the first time in his life did. His first reaction was to argue with Quon Yue, but something told him that Quon Yue knew the difference between good luck and bad luck quite well and was a good judge of the two.

Sensing that Tokui had been taken off-guard by his remark, Quon Yue muttered a swear in Chinese under his breath and decided to change to topic. Hiro's words had made him feel he should tread lightly with this boy, lest he run off screaming into the night. "You know, when I was a kid I saw a shrink a few times," he said conversationally, observing his blue-painted fingernails.

Not only was this the first day he had actually engaged Tokui in a real conversation, it had been the first day the blonde boy had seen him in drag. His hair was perfectly separated into two different colored braids, and he was wearing a loose black tank-top and black leather mini-skirt, as well as black high-heeled ankleboots. His lipstick was the same icy blue shade as his fingernails, though his eyes were dark with the nonchalant expression he currently wore.

Tokui didn't comment on Quon Yue's revelation, but since he didn't act angry or leave the room the latter assumed it was all right to proceed. "The shrinks all said the same thing: extremely bright. Hiding something. Gender identity issues. Imagine, me, with issues identifying my gender!" Quon Yue laughed at the last remark, but the laughter was bordering on hysterical, and caused Tokui to back up a step. Noticing this, the elder cleared his throat and continued. "Fact of the matter is I'm not a boy who wants to be a girl. I am neither male nor female, and I happened to be born as one. But if society expects me to act like either one or the other, they have another thing coming."

Tokui nodded and stared at the floor. He wasn't used to talking very much, and he really had nothing to contribute to this line of conversation.

"So, something eating you?" Quon Yue asked as offhandedly as possible.

Tokui's large gold eyes shot up to face his friend. Without meaning to (or, perhaps, knowing exactly what he was doing) Quon Yue had read him like a book. "I...uh...um...when's your birthday?" he finally choked out. He felt a blush climbing into his cheeks, and he turned around to hide it from the other.

"That's what's been eating you?" Quon Yue asked skeptically, though his voice had a good natured tone that softened his words. "That, or you are trying to completely avoid my question. Or maybe, perhaps, the two things are somehow connected but you have a way of making really complex connections. Either way you don't have to worry about my birthday for a while. It's June 6."

Tokui tried desperately to recall all of his sister's ramblings about astrology to place the date with a sign, but came up with nothing. "Do-do you know your sign?"

"Isn't it obvious? I turned it into my image," Quon Yue said, gesturing to himself. When he noticed Tokui's blank look, he further clarified. "Gemini. I am supposed to be a physical representation of Gemini."

Tokui gasped, then blushed again and turned away. Quon Yue raised an eyebrow, his eyes turning sky blue.

"Did I say something wrong?" he asked, genuine concern tingeing his voice.

Tokui shook his head furiously. "My sister told me yesterday that I would become friends with a Gemini. She said that without knowing your sign."

"Your sister likes astrology?" Quon Yue asked. Then he shrugged. "So do I. I'm more into astronomy, though."

This intrigued Tokui. He never would have pictured Quon Yue as the kind who enjoyed any sciences, let alone a form that required much patience. "But how can you see the stars in Tokyo?"

A strange half-smile crossed Quon Yue's face as his expression softened and looked almost sad. "In my neighborhood the lights don't always work, so I can stand in my special spot. It's perfect for stargazing." His eyes took on their wistful dark blue color. "When I was younger, the stars were all mine. They were the only thing I had, and the only place in Tokyo you could see them was in my district, and the people there didn't take advantage of that. Only I did. So I used to turn to the stars for everything. For comfort. For protection. With astrology I could make them tell me whatever I wanted to know."

Tokui swallowed. He hadn't expected to get such intimate details of the young man's past from such a simple question. And not he wondered if he was obligated to talk about himself.

Tokui swallowed hard. "Closets," he said, slowly, simply, the one word speaking volumes. "They are small, but warm and safe. And always empty, overlooked. When I was five I was in the hospital, and I spent a lot of time out in the open. Sick kids would bug me, nurses and doctors were always coming in to poke me and prod me and I just wanted to be alone. So I found a supply closet. And..."

He looked up to see Quon Yue's eyes the pleasant sky blue that reminded him of the summer sky, coaxing him to continue. So he swallowed hard and resumed the story. "There was already a kid in there. He had cancer, and he was my first friend ever. He was a little older than me, but he told me that when you find a place where no one will ever find you, where no one can see you or touch you, then it's like being alone in your own little world, where nothing is real except what you want to be real." Tears were sliding down Tokui's cheeks, and Quon Yue handed him a box of tissues that was resting in the center of the table. He hesitantly took one and wiped his eyes. "He died," he announced finally. "Three days before I checked out. If he had waited...if I'd gotten better sooner...I could have left with him being alive, and in my world he'd always be alive. But in the real world and in my world he was gone forever. So I stopped making real world friends. I made up friends in my world, in the dark where the real world couldn't touch me. Then I started to write what my friends said and did down into stories. But my sister...she means well, but she belongs in this world. In the real world. In the center of it. She doesn't belong in my world yet she keeps forcing herself in. She's a trespasser! She doesn't belong in my world!"

Quon Yue's eyes had widened, though they were still the pleasant color that made Tokui want to bare his soul to him. Hesitantly, Quon Yue reached out and wrapped his arms around the smaller boy's slight frame, trying to quell his sobbing.

"No one else understands," Tokui whispered. "No one understands that I have my world, just like the stars are yours. They think we're crazy. But the stars...they ARE yours. And I DO have my own world, and the closets are the doorways to them. But only we can understand that. The stars are YOURS, and the Closet World is MINE...."

Quon Yue held Tokui silently for a long time. He'd never given or received comfort before, but something told him silence was the best thing at the moment while the boy finished crying. Finally the sobbing ceased, and Tokui looked up at Quon Yue with tear-rimmed eyes. "You belong in the Closet World," he whispered. "Just like he did. Just like I do. In the Closet World no one judges you based on how you dress or act or think, or cares if you are healthy or sick or plagued by nightmares that you don't understand because they don't belong to you. No one thinks you are crazy. In the Closet World, when you say the stars are yours, then they are and everyone respects that. The stars are yours."

Quon Yue wanted to tell him that didn't like closets and never would, but the revelation was so utterly profound that he couldn't bring himself to tell him that. Tokui had taken darkness, overlooked by everyone else, and turned it into a Utopia for the outcasts of the "real world", and had only been punished and shunned for doing so. 

Somehow, when he saw Tokui and his Closet World, all he could think of was an eleven year old boy standing on a roof, trying to count the stars, and when people asked him why he would answer "to make sure they were all there". People had called him crazy, too. Called that poor, lonely boy crazy for wanting to make sure all of his friends were present and accounted for. For wanting to make sure his prized possessions were all in order people at shunned him and scolded him and told him he needed help.

"If you can share Closet World," Quon Yue whispered hoarsely, "then I can share the stars."

End of Chapter Eight

Notes About the Houses-

(Note: This is according to Astrology for Dummies by Rae Orion. Great book for learning to bare essentials of astrology. I have the pocket edition. ^_^ I would just paraphrase, but you can't get simpler or more concise than this, hence I am using these descriptions.)

First House- Your appearance and apparent disposition.

Second House- Money, possessions, values.

Third House- Communication, short journeys, brothers and sisters.

Fourth House- Home, roots, one parent, circumstances at the end of life.

Fifth House- Romance, children, creativity.

Sixth House- Work and health.

Seventh House- Marriage and other partnerships.

Eighth House- Sex, death, regeneration, other people's money.

Ninth House- Higher education, long journeys, religion, philosophy.

Tenth House- Career, status, reputation, the other parent.

Eleventh House- Friends and aspirations.

Twelfth House- Seclusion and secrets.

Also, sorry this took so long, but I've been unbelievably busy as of late. Hopefully I can get on a roll again, and this long chapter makes up for it. It's the longest chapter of this fic that I've written so far.


	9. Sinners and Saints

Disclaimer- Okay, just to establish what's mine and what isn't: new OCs: mine. Old Gravi characters: not mine. And the difficult middle ground is Ukai Saki. In the manga Noriko DID have a daughter named Saki, but as there are no color pics of her and she isn't dwelled on much a lot of her characteristics were made up by me. So initially she was invented by Murakaki-sensei, but I took her a step further.

Heart's Façade

**Chapter Nine: Saints and Sinners**

**Written by A Girl Named Goo**

Shuichi and Yuki were frozen on the couch, staring at the blushing blonde boy in front of them in shock and amazement. In the 16 years they had known him, they had never expected him to say this...

"You have a date?" Shuichi finally managed to choke out, not one to be left speechless for very long.

Tokui looked down at his feet and spoke quickly in a panicked tone of voice. "It's not really a date. I just want to bring someone to Tousan's engagement party this Saturday. The invitation said that I could, so I assumed it would be all right, but if you don't want me to-"

Yuki raised his hand, cutting Tokui off as effectively as words would have. "You didn't do anything wrong," Yuki reassured him. "It's good that you have a friend that you want to bring to the party. It means you're getting better. We were just a little surprised."

"So who are you bringing?" Shuichi asked with genuine curiosity. Since Tokui didn't go out unless it was with him or his uncle, it was safe to assume that he knew this elusive friend.

Tokui continued to stare at his feet as he spoke, his voice so quiet Shuichi almost missed the name he said. "Chen Quon Yue," he all but whispered.

Yuki didn't seem phased by this statement, but Shuichi almost leapt right out of his seat. Chen Quon Yue, his biggest fan, tormentor of Nakano Hiroshi, and probably the most peculiar person he had ever met was the first and only friend of Seguchi Tokui, a boy with almost no self-esteem who preferred hiding in closets by himself over joining the rest of the world?

Yuki looked over at Shuichi, having noticed his initial reaction. "Is there something I should know about this person?" Yuki asked, confirming that he really hadn't been listening the night Shuichi had talked about him.

Shuichi shrugged. "Hiro doesn't like him that much, but when I met him he seemed really nice, if a bit nervous. He's really strange looking and I guess he doesn't like to follow rules but loves to push other people around. But I also don't think he'd hurt Tokui or be a bad influence on him. From what Hiro tells me he had some bad experiences when he was a kid and now he hates to see people hurt."

Yuki looked at Tokui, as if expecting him to confirm or deny this assessment. Finally he sighed and looked down at the carpet (which seemed so fascinating to Tokui at the moment.) "I guess we're in no place to tell him who he can and can't have for friends," Yuki said at last. "Tokui's an intelligent boy. I'm sure he wouldn't want to be around someone who could be a bad influence on him. And anyone who is willing to befriend someone like him has to be a pretty decent person- no offense, Tokui- so I guess now it's just a matter of you RSVP-ing your father and letting him know you plan on attending and bringing a guest."

Tokui shifted, obviously nervous. Shuichi noticed this and spoke up for the boy. "Maybe you should do it, Yuki. I don't think he wants to talk to his father."

"N-no!" Tokui interrupted, his eyes meeting the violet ones of his uncle's lover. He blushed, cleared his throat, and looked down at the floor. "I mean....I should do it. I'll be at NG tomorrow. I'll tell him then."

"Are you sure, Tokui?" Yuki asked, implying that he meant more than just him talking to his father.

Tokui nodded, understanding the implications of the question. "I'm sure."

~*~*~*~*~*~*~

If there was such thing as love at first sight, then it was logical to assume there was such thing as hate at first sight. And if there was, indeed, no such thing as hate at first sight before, there certainly was now. After all, it was really the only way to describe Seguchi Amai and Ukai Saki's feelings for each other.

From the moment the lavender-haired young woman had stepped into the rehearsal room, twin ponytails bouncing (as well as other matching endowments that were barely concealed by her skintight white top), dark violet eyes sporting an "I'm better than you" look, Amai knew she wouldn't like Saki no matter how hard she tried. She was exactly what she disliked most in a person.

Not that Amai hadn't given her a chance. After all, her father, Saki's mother, and Alexander's parents were watching to see what kind of chemistry their three children had. So far Saki at seated herself at the table, Alexander had placed himself in the corner and began to clean one of his guns, and Amai had propped herself up against a wall, all three not saying anything. There was no need to introduce themselves, since their parents had already done that for them. But an already tense moment was only being made more tense by the constant surveillance of their parents.

It was Saki who spoke first, realizing that no matter how many looks she cast in the direction of her equally well endowed but shorthaired mother she would not be able to escape the room unless someone said something.

"So you're all musicians," was the best she could come up with.

Amai nodded. "My first concert is in a few days."

Saki sized up Amai and bit her lip to keep from laughing. "You're a singer?"

"AND a songwriter AND a keyboardist," Amai amended proudly.

"I'm a singer and a keyboardist as well. You'll have to do better than that," Saki explained, pointing at Amai's flat chest. This caused the younger girl to cross her arms in front of her chest and glare at Saki with smoldering dark green eyes, but noticing the panicked look on Ukai Noriko's face and the concealed panic on her father's she decided not to respond. After all, *someone* had to be mature.

"I happen to like how Amai looks," Alexander piped in, not looking up from his gun.

Amai blushed, and Saki opened her mouth as if to say something else, but noticed their parents and bit it back. Finally, she sighed and looked over at Amai with a look that seemed like a combination of barely concealed anger and resignation. "Well, you'd better have *some* talent if we're going to work together."

"She has talent," Alexander said coolly. He holstered his gun and looked up. "But I think the question here is can we say the same about you?" He was clearly staring at her chest as he said it.

"Are you implying I got to be famous because of my looks and not my talent?" Saki all but screeched.

Alexander shrugged. "I think you implied it yourself when you told Amai she didn't have as much talent as you because her bra was a few sizes smaller than your own. Make up your mind: is it looks or talent that makes a musician? Because it would be a pretty big double standard that the one who obviously has no hang-ups with how she looks got famous for her talent while someone who is secure in their talents didn't make it because of her looks."

Saki wanted to argue, but found that she couldn't. The logic was irrefutable. She turned and looked at Amai, then back at Alexander. "All right. Fine. Amai, you're talented. Alexander, you're talented. And I'm talented. And I'm good looking. Alexander, you're good looking. And Amai, in your own weird tomboyish way that some guys might possibly go for, you're good looking."

There was still a great deal of tension in the room, and the parents could feel it, but they were also mentally crossing their fingers, hoping it would dissolve.

"Maybe we should see how you perform together," Noriko said, if to just interrupt the silence.

Touma nodded quickly in agreement. "Right. If you have great chemistry onstage maybe it can evolve into great chemistry offstage."

Alexander shrugged. "Fine by me. I assume I'm singing, since I can't play an instrument."

Noriko nodded at the boy who bore a strong resemblance to Ryuuichi; namely the Ryuuichi she remembered from high school, before he suddenly regressed. "If you know some of Grasper's old songs, maybe you can play one of them, since they are the only songs I know that you all know."

Amai nodded and walked beside her father as they headed toward a recording studio, Saki just behind her and standing next to her mother, and Alexander pushing his father in his wheelchair.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~

"So, you talk to your father yet?" Quon Yue asked. He was sitting in the open window of Seguchi Touma's private rehearsal room, smoking a cigarette and making sure he blew the smoke out the window.

Tokui was sitting on the other side of the locked room (their compromise, since Quon Yue wouldn't stop shaking when they were in a closet but Tokui wasn't comfortable being out in the open), writing in his notebook. "No," he confessed. "But it's not that I didn't try! Every time I go to his office he's not there. I think he's doing something with my sister today."

What is your father's problem with you, anyway? Quon Yue asked, dropping his cigarette out the window.

Tokui's cheeks turned faintly red, but he didn't look up from his notebook. Eiri-ojisan says it's because I look like him. Well, I look like he did when he was 16. When my uncle was 16 my father...cared for him a great deal. Then something happened to my uncle that turned him into the cold man that he is today, and my father blames himself for it and has regretted it ever since. Eiri-ojisan says I am a reminder of what happened and what he used to look like, and the fact that I act the way I do makes Tousan think he failed the same person twice.

So your father treats you like shit because you happen to look like someone, something that is beyond your control?

He doesn't treat me like shit! Tokui argued, then threw his hands over his mouth and blushed deeper.

Quon Yue chuckled, but not at Tokui's embarrassment for having said a curse word, but more because of his sudden outburst. All right. I believe you. But you can't tell me he treats your sister- who looks and acts exactly like him- the same exact way he treats you.

I didn't say he did. But we're very different people. Besides, I never really got along with either of my parents while my sister did, while my sister never got along with Eiri-ojisan and Shindou-san while I did.

Quon Yue nodded. And from what I've seen, you made out pretty good in that deal.

Tokui chewed on his pencil before resuming his writing, deciding not to comment on what his friend had said. If you come to the party you WILL dress up like a man, right?

Quon Yue shrugged and lit another cigarette. Depends on whether I feel like being male or female that day.

Evidently, Quon Yue was feeling this day, however Tokui had noticed (with a feeling that was a combination of amusement and annoyance that he figured he'd better get used to if he wanted to be friends with this young man) that Quon Yue's attire of the day seemed to be chosen to allude to Tokui's own mostly-black wardrobe. He had painted his nails black and wore black lipstick, eyeliner, and mascara, but he wore a black button-up shirt not tucked in, tight black leather pants, and black combat boots that matched Tokui's.

Tokui just shrugged at this answer. If Quon Yue decided to show up at the party dressed as a woman, then it wasn't Tokui's place to judge him, even if it reflected on him. After all, most people thought him to be pretty strange himself and considered him making a friend a miracle, even if his friend was a cross dresser who disregarded all rules and responsibilities.

Quon Yue pitched the cigarette out the window and closed the distance between them, standing over the younger boy on the floor. "Whatcha writing, anyway?"

Tokui blushed, swallowed, and did something he had never done willingly in his life: he gave his notebook to another person to look at. "It's a story. If it's good I want to get it published."

Quon Yue leaned against the wall and flipped back a few pages in the notebook, reading from the beginning. Tokui's nervousness was causing him to become short of breath, and he took a few puffs from his inhaler, but Quon Yue didn't acknowledge this, his eyes turning the blue-violet color that meant he was concentrating deeply (Quon Yue's first official act as best friend was to tell Tokui what all the colors his eyes turned meant. Tokui, in turn, had given him his necklace and explained what each key went to.)

Finally, Quon Yue handed back the notebook, which Tokui eagerly took. He couldn't read Quon Yue's expression, and his eyes hadn't changed color yet. "How was it?" Tokui asked. Quon Yue seemed to ponder this question, which made Tokui begin to babble nervously. "It's bad. I knew it. I shouldn't be a writer. I am insulting my uncle's honor. I was a fool to think I could be as good as he is-"

Quon Yue raised his finger in a silencing gesture that Tokui obeyed. "Don't automatically assume the worst, Tokui. God, you're such a pessimist...well, I guess that's what happens when the worst usually does happen in situations like that. Anyway, it isn't bad. Quite the opposite: I think it's great. I'm no great literary expert, mind you, but I've done a great deal of reading in my day and I can tell what's good and what's bad. The characters are interesting, the plot is original, and I like your choice of setting. It's not going too fast but not taking it's time, either, and the descriptions are rich without becoming tedious, and you hook readers right from the beginning. If you finish it I think with a little revising it'll be ready for publication. I never would have pictured you as the type who write fantasy, but then again it's not all that surprising. And by the way, I love your sorcerer character. He seems familiar."

Tokui blushed deeply. He'd never received praise before (but then, he'd never opened up to anyone before) and wasn't sure how to respond. "I thought you would make a good sorcerer. My sister is the stargazing oracle and my father is the king."

"You don't put either in a very positive light," Quon Yue observed. "In fact, the only characters you seem to show positively are the sorcerer, the minstrel, and the playwright. Okay, gimme a minute and let me guess...if I'm the sorcerer, then Shindou-san must be the minstrel and your uncle must be the playwright. That would make you the hero, right?"

Tokui shook his head furiously. "The hero is supposed to be my complete opposite."

"Well, if the hero is who you want to be then it's still technically you. Either way, I can't wait to see it finished," Quon Yue finished assessing with a nod that implied they were no longer discussing this topic.

They were both quiet for a long time in the dark room. Tokui put his notebook away, took out his other inhaler, and inhaled the medicine in it. He was about to take out his copy of one of his uncle's books, but was stopped short by a hand around his wrist. He looked up and met Quon Yue's devilish-looking bright blue eyes. "Let's take a little field trip."

~*~*~*~*~*~*~

No one spoke in the recording studio as they watched the three teens playing their instruments. The four parents were the only ones present on the side of the sound-proof class outside the recording area, and though they weren't recording Touma found himself wishing he had turned on the equipment and made a tape of this little session.

It was Noriko who recovered her ability to speak first. "They even look like us..." she murmured.

"It's a shame they don't get along," Touma said in a voice tinged with disappointment. If Amai didn't get along with Saki there would be no talking her into performing with her.

"They'll learn!" Ryuuichi piped up optimistically, though his voice carried a hint of doubt that didn't reassure the others the way his sunny optimism usually did.

"They do sound great. We could put them out and not even market them as Neo Grasper and they'd be instant hits," K mused.

Noriko sighed and leaned against a mixing board. "Saki must really think Amai is a threat. She's only so hostile when she feels threatened."

Touma looked down at his one-of-a-kind Italian shoes. "And Amai has such a short temper. Sure, I got trained out of mine eventually, but you were helping me. No offense, but I don't think Saki will help Amai get a handle on hers."

"But they'll get along!" Ryuuichi piped up, causing Noriko and Touma to look at him. They had a feeling this was going to be one of his rare "insightful" moments. "Remember when we all first met? Touma was such a bully, Noriko had a bad temper, and I didn't want to work. The only reason we were together in the first place was Touma and I were old friends and we hired Noriko. And we became such good friends, and they can, too! But they have to have a chance!"

Noriko sighed. "I suppose you're right. We're just trying to live our kid's lives for them. Our parents never lived our lives and look at what we accomplished. We'll leave it up to them to decide."

The song ended and the door separating the recording area and the mixing area opened. The three teens walked out, Alexander stretching his lean frame, Saki sauntering, and Amai coming up behind her, scowling the entire time.

"You three sound great together!" Noriko praised.

"We know," they all said in unison, though begrudgingly by the sound of their tone.

"Is there are a problem?" Touma asked, the question guided toward his daughter.

Amai sighed. "We sound great together. We look great together. And playing together just feels right. But we don't all like each other, and how can we be any good? My first reaction is to say I never want to do that again, but...I don't know. It just seems like too good an idea to let get away."

"Yeah," the other two said, sporting bitter looks on their faces.

"Ryuuichi was just saying that if you spend more time together and play more together maybe you'll learn to like each other more," K told them.

They all just sighed. This caused the parents to look down at their feet and sigh in response.

"Amai has a concert coming up in a few days. Maybe you should all get together and play a song or two just to see what it's like and how the fans react," Touma suggested at last. This earned him three shrugs in response.

Before the room could descend into awkward silence the door to the recording studio swung open.

"Can't you read? This room is off limits except to authorized personnel until further notice," Touma told whoever it was bitterly, but when he turned around he widened his eyes in surprise: standing there, staring at his feet and sporting an expression akin to that of a cornered animal, was his son. And next to his son, with an arm around his shoulders (which he didn't know Tokui let ANYONE touch him) was the man he had signed for no reason other than to torment Nakano Hiroshi: Chen Quon Yue, his eyes glittering bright blue and making him feel slightly unnerved.

"Glad we finally found you, Sachou," Quon Yue said evenly, guiding Tokui into the room. "Tokui here has something to ask you. We've been searching this whole building for you, you know. Go on, Tokui, ask him."

Tokui blushed, swallowed, and stared down at his feet. "O-Otousan...I...um...I....canibringquonyuetoyourparty?" he finally spat out in one breath.

"What? Slow down a little," Touma ordered.

Amai walked over to her brother, sizing up the man who had his arm around him. Quon Yue sized her up right back. "He wants to know if he can bring Quon Yue to your engagement party," Amai translated.

Touma stared at Quon Yue with an expression that Tokui was sure meant no, but out loud he said "You didn't have to ask me. Your invitation said you could bring the guest of your choice, whether I approve of them or not."

The look of relief that washed over Tokui's face expelled all of Touma's suspicions that it had been Quon Yue's idea to attend the party and that he had forced Tokui to ask his father against his will. In fact, that relieved look was startling to Touma; he'd never seen his son relieved, happy, or excited about anything in his life.

Touma suddenly realized he and his unexpected visitors were receiving strange looks from the others in the room, so he turned to face them and cleared his throat. "This is my son, Seguchi Tokui. And this young man is another act signed onto NG, Chen Quon Yue. He is Tokui's friend. And Tokui, these are all my guests: Sakuma Ryuuichi, Crawd Winchester, Alexander Sakuma-Winchester, Ukai Noriko, and Ukai Saki."

Tokui looked at the crowd of strangers, swallowed hard, then shrugged out of Quon Yue's grasp and turned around, darting from the room. Quon Yue's eyes turned a shade of violet that Touma found particularly interesting before he turned to the others, gave them a curt nod, and took off running to find his best friend.

"Nervous little thing, isn't he?" Saki said to break the uncomfortable silence that had descended on the room.

Amai turned and glared at the other girl. "He's different, okay? You don't know how much of a miracle it is he has one friend, so just shut up and leave him alone!"

"You know, your son looks just like-" Noriko started before Touma interrupted her.

"Yes, I know," Touma said bitterly. Then he sighed and looked down at his feet. "Good God, do I know..."

Everyone looked at Touma and bristled uncomfortably. Everyone except for Alexander, that is. He was looking at the door that Quon Yue had just used to make his hasty exit. Quon Yue, with the most interesting, beautiful eyes...

~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Quon Yue finally managed to find Tokui in the stairwell, panting and shaking his inhaler. He was just taking a puff as Quon Yue stepped in front of him, his eyes the sky blue color that made Tokui unable to hate him or hide anything from him, his defective one twitching ever so slightly.

"Look, I am really, really sorry," Quon Yue told Tokui, his voice and eyes reflecting his sincerity and further melting Tokui's hurt and anger. "If I knew all those people were in there I never would have forced you to go in. I thought it would just be your father. And I'm sorry I made you ask your father then and there, but I thought you could handle it if I was standing right there. I didn't mean to hurt you in any way."

Tokui responded by embracing Quon Yue, sobbing onto his shoulder. "It's not...It's not you. God, now all my father's friends think I'm some kind of freak. Which I guess I am. I couldn't even ask my father a simple question...."

"In all fairness, your father is a pretty scary person," Quon Yue told him in a tone that was only half joking. When Quon Yue didn't stop crying, he pushed him away slightly and wiped his eyes for him. "You're not a freak, all right? You're different. I'm different. If they don't understand that then it's their loss. We've lived just fine so far without their approval. You feel things differently than they do, and if they don't want to understand that and see what a wonderful person you really are then they are the only ones who are missing out."

Tokui's eyes were still brimming with tears as he looked into Quon Yue's eyes for any sign that he was making this up, but found only caring and understanding in those heavenly azure orbs.

"Okay, hold on a second. You, sit right here," Quon Yue ordered, forcing Tokui to sit on the first step of the staircase that lead up. He then ascended the staircase and sat on the top one. "Stay there," he ordered as he took out a cigarette. "Smoke rises so you should be safe." He lit the cigarette and shook the match until the flame extinguished, then dropped it on the concrete. "Damn, you really DO do everything you're told, don't you? I'm gonna give you some lessons in assertiveness first."

Tokui quirked an eyebrow, but turned and sat the long way across the step so he would only have to look sideways to look up at Quon Yue. Quon Yue was right about smoke rising: he couldn't even smell the smoke from his level, much less be irritated by it.

"Okay, step one: stand up straight and tall," Quon Yue ordered. Tokui stood up on the step with his hands at his side in a perfect military attention stance. "Step two: lift your chin like you're better than everyone else." Tokui did this as well, trying to look as arrogant as he possibly could. "Step three: take a deep breath and hold it until step four." Tokui drew in a deep breath and waited. Quon Yue paused for a few seconds to take a drag from his cigarette. "Step four: exhale while saying 'banana'."

Tokui exhaled sharply, almost shouting "banana" as he did so. The sound echoed in the empty staircase, allowing Tokui to realize how foolish what he had just done really was. He couldn't help himself: he began to laugh. Softly at first, but then so hard that he had to sit down on the step to keep from falling. Quon Yue joined in his laughter, which lasted a few minutes before Tokui began gasping for air. Quon Yue stopped laughing and looked down in alarm, but after Tokui took a few puffs of his inhaler he resuming chuckling lightly, wiping the tears from his eyes.

"That was lesson number one," Quon Yue explained, the smile returning to his face. "You don't have to do everything everyone tells you. If it sounds stupid then don't do it. Then you'll just be making an ass out of yourself. And next time you might not be able to see the humor in it."

"I see," Tokui said, still smiling. Quon Yue dropped his cigarette and stepped it out, descending the staircase. He then took Tokui's chin so they were facing each other eye to eye. His eyes were glittering silver, something that Tokui had never seen but he knew meant the older boy was really, truly happy.

"I thought you had a pretty smile," Quon Yue told him. "I was wondering if I'd ever get to see it. I'm glad I got to. You need to learn how to smile more."

Tokui blushed, his small smile remained as Quon Yue released his chin. "Come on," he announced. "Shindou-san must be getting ready to leave and trust me: you don't want to get left behind and have to go home with me. And okay, I'll admit it: I want to see Shindou-san again so I can have more wet dreams about him."

Tokui guffawed, and Quon Yue smiled in return. It was always awkward the first time someone really laughed. This was something he knew quite well. But after the first time it became easier. And the easier it became, the better the person would feel.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Hiro hadn't gone to work that day. It had been Quon Yue's idea. His exact words were "you and producer chick punch in and then do whatever the hell you please while I do some stuff of my own, then I'll punch you two out. You don't tell if I don't tell."

Hiro was sure the young man had ulterior motives, but as long as he didn't get caught and he still got paid for the day he didn't care what they were. He'd once asked the younger man what he had done for money before entering the music industry, receiving the cryptic answer of "you don't wanna know". Hiro had decided that he really DIDN'T want to know, remembering the neighborhood he was from, the way the lowlifes all treated him like they owed him, and his expertise in the bedroom.

Hiro double checked the address on the paper with the address on the building he was standing in front of. It was a better neighborhood than the one Quon Yue lived in, but still barely enough to be called "middle class". Sighing, he walked into the lobby of the apartment building. A rather unenthused looking middle-aged woman was sitting at the desk, flipping through a magazine. She didn't notice Hiro approach.

Hiro cleared his throat. The woman didn't look up. He cleared his throat again. No answer. He tried a third time. The woman looked up at him from the corner of her eye. "Do you need a glass of water, sir?"

"I need an apartment number," Hiro all but growled.

The woman sighed in exasperation and took out a Roll-o-Dex. "Which one?"

"I need to know where Yamamoto Makoto lives," he told her. He actually didn't know this Yamamoto Makoto, whom he assumed was a woman. He was only concerned with who she supposedly lived with, if the trail of leads he had followed so far proved accurate.

"Fifth floor. Apartment 502. Elevator's out so use the stairs," the woman told him. He muttered something akin to "thanks" and trudged up the stairs.

The apartment was surprisingly hard to find, considering most of the numbers on the doors were missing. He was finally able to ascertain where 502 had to be by finding door 500, looking across the hall and seeing a door marked "50" with a mark where a 1 had once been, and figuring 502 had to be the door with about half a five next to door 500. He hesitated before knocking on the door.

At first there was no answer. He tried again, this time causing a male voice to shout "I'm coming!" in a tone that didn't sound unpleasant while at the same time didn't sound too friendly.

The door opened as far as the chain lock on the door would allow, and a dark eye framed by pale blonde hair looked out at him. "Yes?" he asked. He looked at Hiro's suit and sighed. "Whatever you're selling we're not interested."

He went to close the door, but Hiro quickly slipped his hand in. "I'm not a salesman. I'm looking for someone. Does Yamamoto Makoto live here?"

"You're looking at him," the man said. "But I paid all my bills so if your working for some utility company tell them to look in their mailboxes."

"No, I'm actually looking for Aizawa Tachi. I heard he was living here, but I must be mistaken," Hiro explained. Makoto moved Hiro's hand out of the way and shut it, and Hiro turned, ready to leave. But to his surprise he heard the chain being undone on the lock. The door open wider, and Hiro realized who the thin man with the stringy pale-blonde hair and dark eyes was: the one that had been called "Ma-kun" in the band ASK.

"Tachi! It's for you!" Makoto shouted into the apartment. There was a narrow entry way that prevented Hiro from looking in.

"Who is it?" a rather annoyed voice shouted from inside.

"I don't know. But he asked for you and he says he's not a salesman or a bill collector."

"Then don't be an ass! Let him in!"

Makoto moved out of the way, allowing Hiro to step in. He then lead him into a small living room, where a thing dark-haired man was sitting in a chair across from a television set, smoking. Hiro was standing at the angle that allowed Hiro to see the man's face, and his brown eyes. The pupil in his left one was slightly smaller than the right, and twitching ever so slightly. It was a few moments before Aizawa looked up at Hiro.

"Who are you?" he asked.

"Nakano Hiroshi," Hiro said coolly, fighting the urge to walk over and punch the man in the face. But he was on a mission.

"Nakano Hi-...wait a second...you were in Bad Luck, weren't you?" Aizawa said, the realization just dawning on him. He rose from his chair with a sickening and all-too-familiar smug smile pasted on his face. Next time Quon Yue used that on him Hiro would have to tell him it made him look like his father. That would wipe it right off his face.

"Yes, I was. But that's not what I'm here about," Hiro told him as calmly as he could.

"Is it an apology for your friend you want? Because I already confronted him and apologized for that years ago while I was still in therapy. We've both moved on. But if that's what you want, then I admit it: I was wrong. It was totally uncalled for. And now, looking back on it, I AM guilty. I don't dislike Shindou-san any less but he didn't deserve that. But hey, the better man won out in the end, right?" Aizawa offered, obviously just trying to get this man out of his home.

"Actually, it's not about that. And I'll add that Shuichi might have forgiven you, but I sure as hell haven't and if you ever cross paths with Yuki Eiri you'd better hope there is a God," Hiro retorted. He saw Makoto shift uneasily before retreating to the kitchen.

"Well, then what the hell do you want with me?" Aizawa finally asked.

Hiro had to think of how to word what he wanted to say. "I'm here because by some cruel twist of fate I am working with one of your biggest mistakes."

"Oh? Care to elaborate?"

"I'm a manager at NG now, and my current assignment is your son."

Aizawa looked at Hiro as if he had just fallen off the paddy wagon. "What the hell are you talking about? I don't have a son."

"You don't remember almost 19 years ago in high school when you slept with some poor Chinese girl and then abandoned her when you found out she was pregnant?"

"Chinese girl....oh my god. Was her family name Chen?"

"Coming back to you, isn't it?"

"Fuck, she was pregnant?"

"You can't honestly tell me you didn't know."

Aizawa's defective eye began to twitch madly. "Shit, of course I didn't! I broke up with her because my father didn't want me to date a Chinese girl! But she never told me she was pregnant! How the hell do you know he's mine?"

"He's got a defective left eye, an annoying smug smile, an arrogant attitude, and a hell of a singing voice. And besides that he named you as his father."

"But...if he's mine, why the hell hasn't anyone told me? And why didn't he come to see me?"

"He thinks you abandoned him and his mother. He hates you. Despises you. When I told him how he was like you he hated you even more. And he adores Shindou Shuichi. He thinks what you did to him makes you all the more despicable."

Aizawa sat down in his chair, a look of shock on his face. "I...I have a son. I didn't know." He looked up at Hiro, as if pleading for forgiveness. "I really didn't know. If I had I would have done something."

"I somehow doubt that."

"Look, what I did to Shindou was just one of a number of unacceptable things I did before my breakdown. I was well on my way to insanity before Seguchi Touma pushed me in front of that car. I was sick then. But I wasn't when I was with Lien Tai. And if someone had only told me sooner...oh God, tell me he was well taken care of at least!"

Hiro looked down at the dirty blue carpet. "I don't think he was. He won't talk about his mother and step-father except to say the latter died and the former abandoned him when he was 13, I saw the tiny, filthy dump he calls an apartment in the middle of someplace no better than a slum that he claims he grew up in, he lives there with a big, scary, abusive cousin and you know what else? I think he's been selling himself or other unsavory things to survive."

"You're making this up! You have to be! This is all some kind of sick joke trying to make me regret what I did to Shindou!"

"I kid you not. If I wanted to get back at you I would have done it then instead of waiting 16 years, and I wouldn't have gone out of my way to find you. But you know what? I am loving watching you suffer right now. Suffering with your guilt. A bright young boy could have had a better life if you had only been there for him, but now he hates you and will probably try to kill you if you ever step toward him. And I think he's capable. He's already pulled a knife on me. So I hope it hurts. I hope it hurts at least half as bad as Shuichi hurt after you hired those goons to try to destroy him. I saw those disgusting pictures you took, and I have never forgotten them. I should let Quon Yue carve you to pieces. But I am going to do a poor boy who has suffered enough a favor and not give him a chance."

With that, Hiro turned on his heel and stomped away. Makoto was looking at him from the kitchen, wide-eyed with fear. He nodded curtly at the man, saying "Yamamoto" as a gesture of acknowledgement, and left, slamming the door behind him.

End of Chapter 9

Ending Notes-

1.) I don't know Ma-kun's real name or if he has one, but I needed one for this story and let's face it: the name Ma-kun sucks. I also gave him a unisex name typically used for females on purpose so Hiro wouldn't recognize him by his real name alone, and made sure I used to "ma" sound twice ("YaMAmoto MAkoto").

2.) Here's the key I use to determine Quon Yue's eye colors if you were wondering or I was too vague on a few colors (like sky blue):

White=Scared, Nervous, In Pain 

Black=Indifferent 

Silver-Grey=Happy 

Blue-Grey=Annoyed 

Ice Blue=Angry 

Sky Blue=Sad, Sympathetic, Longing 

Bright Blue=Mischievous, Scheming 

Dark Blue=Thinking, Reminiscing 

Blue-Violet=Concentrating 

Violet=Surprised


	10. Remembering and Forgetting

Disclaimer- Ah, yes. The elusive disclaimer makes it's grand return as I have even MORE things that aren't mine to disclaim: "Never Ever" was written and performed by Ayumi Hamasaki. For the maximum effect of this song and for it to be relevant to Amai then listen to the Jonathan Peters Radio Mix (it's more keyboard/synth based than the original and in all more Amai). "Nan Ren Ku Ba Bu Shi Zui" was written and performed by Andy Lau. (It's kind of hard to find, but SO worth it.) "In Your Wildest Dreams" is performed by the Moody Blues and written by Justin Hayward. Lyrics and translations were obtained from A-YU-MILLENNIUM ("http://ayumi.yoll.net/lyrics.html") for "Never Ever" and Ting Dong Chinese and Japanese Lyrics ("http://www.powersugoi.net/tingdong/") for "Nan Ren Ku Ba Bu Shi Zui". (I wrote down the lyrics to "In Your Wildest Dreams" myself. It might not sound very Gravi-like, but I LOVE the lyrics.) And that's enough disclaiming for one day other than to say Gravi and it's characters: not mine. Original characters: mine (unless otherwise noted in previous chapters).

Note- The set-up of this chapter is a bit unusual. Every other scene (starting with the first) is a flashback sequence, and then the other scenes are part song-fic. Hopefully when you see it used it comes together. This one focuses around Tokui, but I plan to do something similar for Quon Yue later in the fic. BTW, if you are reading this at FF.N the Heart's Façade website is already up (with character bios and hidden spoilers as well as other goodies) at "http://www31.brinkster.com/gravific/index.htm". (The layout kind of sucks now, but I'll fix it soon enough.)

**Heart's Façade**

**Chapter Ten: Remembering and Forgetting**

**Written by A Girl Named Goo**

_*Hisss...pop...hisss...pop.*_

The respirator's morbid beat filled the small hospital room, contrasting with the images of clowns, cartoon characters, and other happy, bright colored murals that someone had painted onto the wall in an effort to distract people from the fact they were, indeed, in a hospital, a place where as many people took their last breaths as their first.

_*Hisss...pop...hisss...pop.*_

That one machine was currently the only thing keeping the small boy in the middle of the bed, so utterly alone in the room, alive and breathing. Chances were no one knew he was awake yet, as the tube in his throat prevented him from speaking and he was too weak to find the button that would summon an orderly. Instead he kept his golden gaze fixed up at the ceiling. It wouldn't be the first time he was left alone in the hospital room with only his imagination to keep him company. At least it was better than having to hear tittering nurses and insensitive kids asking him questions that he wouldn't have answered even if he could. In his four short years he had already decided that people weren't worth the time or the effort.

He was dimly aware of the door to his room opening, but he couldn't sit up to see who it was. He was sure that whoever it was would make themselves known soon enough, as was usually the case with his visitors. He closed his eyes, hoping that if it was someone annoying they would believe he was asleep and leave. That, or think he was in a coma when he refused to "wake up" and be questioned. It'd happened before.

"You can go right in, Yuki-san," a female voice said. "I think he's still asleep, but he should be waking up soon. I'm sure he'll be happy to see you."

Tokui's eyes flew open, a gesture that, if anyone had noticed it, would have given away that he wasn't really asleep. His uncle was the only welcome visitor for him, even if he couldn't talk to him. The older man looked like him and probably knew what it was like to have people asking if he was foreign, usually not to his face. But more importantly, the man never spoke. His company was more than enough, and words often spoiled moments that were fine on their own.

Yuki looked down at the boy in the bed, who would have smiled if it weren't for the tube in his mouth. A tiny smile quirked on the corner of the man's mouth as he sat down in the chair next to the bed, putting the case he had with him on the small table next to the bed. He opened it and pulled out his laptop, finding an outlet for it by unplugging a lamp and switching it on. While the computer booted up he looked down at the boy again, who was staring up at him with large golden eyes, eyes filled with a mixture of sadness and excitement. He reached over and smoothed down his little nephew's hair before resuming his work on his computer.

There were a few tittering nurses in the doorway, and their hushed conversation floated into the room.

"He's so handsome!"

"Do you know who that is?"

"Who?"

"Yuki Eiri, the novelist."

"He's better looking than I ever could have imagined!"

"Is he foreign? I've never seen people with coloring like that before..."

"I don't know. Do you think that's his son in the bed? They look alike."

"I heard that's his nephew."

"But they look so much alike. Did he have an affair?"

"I doubt it. That's his sister's son."

"It's so nice of him to come and visit. That boy never has any visitors."

Yuki glanced at the boy again, who was soundlessly staring back up at him, tubes in his mouth and throat with more tubes and wires coming from various parts of his body, taking care of every bodily function so that all Tokui had to do was live, no more, no less. Tokui, had he been old enough to understand what he saw, would have realized the strange look in his uncle's otherwise icy stare was pity. Pity for the miserable existence this child lived, pity for the tittering nurses and the shameless children.

But the look he got in return for his pity filled gaze was nothing but love and admiration, a look that broke his heart. No, this boy was his son, but he often found himself wishing he was....

~*~*~*~*~*~*~

"What the hell is this?!" Hiro fumed, holding up the memo in his hand.

"Well, Mr. Suit, I don't know what they call it in these parts but where I'm from that's called a piece of paper," Quon Yue answered, lighting a cigarette (with a disposable lighter instead of a match, Hiro noticed). He was wearing the white shirt he had borrowed from Hiro with a pair of black jeans and black sneakers, probably the most modest outfit Hiro had ever seen him wear. His hair was in a French braid, however, with the silver and dark blue strands separated perfectly as they intertwined. Hiro noted he must have dyed his hair nightly, because his roots never showed.

"I mean what's on it, smartass. And where'd you get a lighter?"

"I had an unexpected payoff yesterday and bought it. Not as messy as matches, and it won't burn any carpets. And I am not sure what's on the paper. Enlighten me."

Hiro sighed and decided not to ask how he came about money. "According to this note you took it upon yourself to fire your session pianist. For no reason. Now she wants Seguchi-san to keep paying her for work she's not doing until she gets another job and Seguchi-san is taking it out of _my_ pay."

"Sucks to be you."

Hiro threw down the paper with a loud _*SMACK_* that actually caused Quon Yue to jump. "Do you _ever_ stop to think of someone else besides yourself? You just skid through life day by day, taking advantage of everyone you meet, and then you have the _nerve_ to insult them to their face. Well, you know what? I don't care if you're poor or if you were raised wrong. You are going to find your own damn pianist and you are going to pay for the old one, because I am your manager, not your damn father!"

Quon Yue's eyes were wide and violet, but when they shifted to bright blue Hiro knew he was in trouble. "Make me," he said simply. "The bill is in your name, and Seguchi _loves_ to see you crawl so he won't send it to me. If you send it to me and I don't pay, you're the one who gets in trouble." He took another drag from his cigarette. "Law of the jungle, Mr. Suit: always look out for number one. And for your information, I know _exactly_ what I'm doing."

"If you have some great plan, I'd like to hear it, because I don't give a shit how talented you are and I don't care if Seguchi wins in the end anymore, I am ready to quit and let you torment some other manager," Hiro spat out hatefully.

"I don't like that pianist. She's no good," he said smoothly, taking another drag from his cigarette. "You might not hear it because you don't play piano, and the average listener probably won't hear it, but _I_ hear it and it bothers me. So I want a new pianist. I want Seguchi Tokui."

It took a moment for Hiro to register what Quon Yue had just told him. Then he sighed and looked down at the memo beneath his hand. "You are absolutely nuts, you know that? Tokui cannot and will not perform for ANYONE, not even you. I know that you went behind my back and made friends with him somehow and I know everyone thinks you are a miracle worker, but you are asking him to do something most normal people won't even do."

"I think I can do it," Quon Yue affirmed, smashing his cigarette out on the corner of the table and throwing it into a trashcan.

"Well, if you're going to do it then you'd damn well better do it soon. I've got you booked to go on stage with Seguchi Amai and Neo Grasper in two days. Which, by the way, Seguchi was _not_ pleased by that but since Shuichi booked the date his hands were tied. You should thank Shuichi for sticking his neck out for you."

"When have I ever taken anything Shindou-san does for granted? And I will have Tokui playing the piano. I'd be willing to bet anything on it," Quon Yue told him, his eyes turning sky blue as his face took on a look of conviction Hiro had yet to see on him.

Hiro stopped for a moment to think about this. "I'm calling your bet. If I lose and you get Tokui to play the piano at your concert I'll give you whatever you want and I'll pay for the bills for the session pianist without any more complaints. But if I win, then you have to personally invite that session pianist back and pay for her salary. Deal?"

Quon Yue's eyes turned bright blue as he nodded, a smile tugging on the corners of his mouth. "All right. It's a deal."

~*~*~*~*~*~*~

As a rule, Tokui wasn't supposed to leave the hospital bed. If he got exposed to anything the incision where his feeding tube was could get infected, and his portable oxygen tank was heavy and would have to be dragged, thus further inviting danger. But by some fluke he had lived to see age five, and he wasn't going to let little things like this bother him as he stood up, sliding into the slippers next to his bed.

The door to his room was closed, but only because the nurses thought he was taking a nap. He'd actually faked his exhaustion, tired of all the kids who had nothing better to do than to go into his room and ask him questions he didn't want to answer: "What's wrong with you?" "How long have you been here?" "Where's your parents?" "Why is your hair that color?" "Why are your eyes that weird color?" "Are you Japanese?" "Who is that man that comes here to see you?"

Not wanting to scrape his oxygen tank and cause the catastrophe that the nurses had warned him about, he also took his blanket off the bed and put it on the floor, putting the oxygen tank on it. He dragged his tank in this fashion over to the door and looked outside it. The only nurse he could see was walking in the opposite direction from his door and couldn't see him.

There was a supply closet near here. He'd seen nurses going in there countless times as he watched them from this very doorway before they scolded him and put him back into his bed. He wasn't used to walking and was a little awkward on his feet, but he was sure he could make it such a short distance before anyone caught him and put him back into his bed.

As soon as the nurse disappeared into another room he made his move, darting as quickly as he could while toting his oxygen tank to the closet. He opened the door to the closet, slipped in and pulled in his oxygen tank, and shut the door behind him, panting for a few moments as his eyes adjusted to the darkness. He was surprised when he saw, on the other side of the closet, a boy already sitting there. He was wearing the thin pajamas that all the sick kids wore, and though he was very thin he was still taller than Tokui. He had no hair, and his eyes were large and dark as they looked at the unexpected visitor in alarm.

"Nurses poking and prodding you?" the boy asked. Tokui just gaped at him, so the boy averted his gaze down to the oxygen tank. "Wow, you must be really sick. Didn't that make an awful racket dragging it, though?"

Tokui shook his head. "I...pulled it on the blanket," he said, holding up the corner.

The boy stood and walked toward Tokui, but appeared to be examining the oxygen tank. "Ordinarily I'd tell you to get lost like every other kid that finds his way in here, but you look like you could be a good citizen of Closet World." He boy went back to the back of the closet and sat down again. "Yes, a very good citizen. Maybe better than me. By the way, my name is Hinoiri. Sucky name, I know. What's yours?"

Tokui slowly approached the boy who called himself Hinoiri. "Tokui," he said softly.

"Heh. And I thought I'd die without finding a name worse than mine. Thanks for giving me that. So, whatcha in for?"

Tokui shrugged, sitting down across from him. "Lots of stuff. I was born here and I never left."

Hinoiri nodded appreciatively. "And someone whose spent more time here than me. I'd better watch my job as Chief Outcast of Closet World."

"Closet World?"

"Why did you come in here?"

Tokui blushed. "The other kids wouldn't stop asking me questions I didn't want to answer because I look weird."

"Perfect citizen. Closet World is a place for people that the people out there don't want or think are weird. In here _everyone's_ weird, and no matter how strange what you say is everyone believes you. No one out there believes that I am half-alien and I am actually dying because the atmosphere is too dense on Earth, but here they're trying to call my home planet to come get me and save me."

"You're an...alien?" Tokui asked, taking deep breaths from his mask. His eyes were wide with interest. He'd never met an alien before.

"Well, not really, but it's easier than believing I am just a weird human who is dying of cancer. Suspension of disbelief, I believe it's called. And precocious is what they call me, which I guess is a fancy word for a weird kid who is too smart. They just don't want to believe I'm a seventeen year old trapped in a seven year old's body. How old are you?"

"Five."

"Not that much younger. You can still learn. This is actually my second time I've had cancer. Well, actually, I never got rid of it the first time. It went into remission, which they said is liking knocking it out. Well, now it's gotten back up and it wants to fight. And it's calling in reinforcements. But I'm okay with it. If I'm gonna die then I'm gonna die. No sense in fighting it. I stopped my chemo for that reason. Let me guess: you have problems with your lungs."

Tokui nodded slowly. "And because I can't eat normally, and because my muscles don't work right, and my heart does weird things."

"You run the gamut on health problems, don't you? Maybe the citizens of Closet World should be calling your home planet instead of mine. You look more like an alien than me- no offense- and the atmosphere is crushing you more.

Tokui looked down at the floor. A boy dying of cancer felt sorry for him? He'd seen enough kids come and go with cancer to know how horrible it was, and how equally horrible the treatment was. While his ailments weren't a picnic at least there was a slim chance of recovering. He was already doing better than the doctors could have ever hoped.

Hey, you wanna see something cool? Hinoiri asked. Tokui looked up with interest as the boy reached for a backpack behind him. He opened it and took out a personal CD player and a CD. He handed both to Tokui, who hesitantly took them. The CD was by Bad Luck.

My uncle's lover is in this band, Tokui said, handing them both back. Shindou Shuichi.

I would say I don't believe you, but you look like the Yuki Eiri the magazines say is dating Shindou-san and the first rule of Closet World is to believe everyone no matter how weird what they say is. Plus you don't strike me as the lying type. You even believed I was an alien.

The door to the closet opened, and both boys jumped as they looked toward the door. A nurse was standing there, and she didn't look at all happy. Hinoiri! There you are! We were looking all over for you! Your parents are here! She looked at Tokui. And Tokui, you know better than to drag around your oxygen tank. You are supposed to stay in bed. Doctor's orders.

Hinoiri stood and looked at Tokui, smiling at him. I'll see you later, okay?

Tokui just nodded as the nurse walked in and picked up his oxygen and took his hand, leading him to his bed.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Quon Yue shut the door to the rehearsal room. He often wondered why they were called rehearsal rooms when he never saw anyone doing anything but lounge around and talk in them. He was just about to light a cigarette when a voice stopped him cold.

Tousan doesn't let people smoke in the building, Seguchi Amai said, leaning against the wall next to the rehearsal room. Quon Yue bit back any comment he could have made about her or father by sheer virtue they were related to Tokui and put his cigarette back into the pack, pocketing it.

I take it you're not here to scold me on my bad habits, he told her, examining his fingernails. He had a feeling he wouldn't like this girl any more than he liked her father, whether she was Tokui's twin or not.

You're my brother's only friend, you know, Amai said, as if this was some profound revelation.

Again, he bit back saying something potentially hurtful. Yes, I know, he said evenly. And he's my only real friend. We trust each other and we like each other. I think that makes us good friends.

Amai leaned forward and rested her forehead between her forefinger and thumb of her right hand, a gesture that made her look remarkably like her father. I'll spare the speech about how he's a little strange considering you're a little strange yourself. I just wanted you to know not to expect any miracles.

What exactly do you mean? Quon Yue asked, quirking an eyebrow. His eyes were turning ice blue and betraying his feelings for the younger girl, and but she managed to keep herself as composed as her father did.

Tokui doesn't open up to people very easily. Not even to me. Don't expect him to suddenly open up to you.

Actually, he's already told me quite a bit that I can guarantee no one else knows. Is this really your problem, though? Or are you angry because someone else can talk to your brother when you can't anymore?

Amai looked up at him, her dark green eyes smoldering, looking wholly too much like her father. He almost expected her to tell him he was fired. Instead, in an icy tone that matched the color of Quon Yue's eyes, she said You cant fix everything, you know. The doctors don't even think he'll live to be twenty.

Maybe because he never had a reason to live before, what with a sister like you.

Amai gasped, then turned and stomped away indignantly. As soon as she was out of sight, Quon Yue took out his cigarette and lit it.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Tokui was sitting on the edge of the bed, his oxygen tank sitting on the floor in front of it. His mother (who he only saw about twice a month, if that) was packing all of his clothes and his few belongings into a suitcase, not bringing herself to look her son in the eye.

Tokui had had mixed feelings about going home. He'd never been "home" before, and therefore wasn't entirely sure what to expect when he got there. And he would be living with his mother, who he barely knew. He knew most of the doctors and nurses in the hospital better than he knew her. And he wouldn't get to see his friend anymore, either.

Seven months had passed since Hinoiri had made Tokui a citizen of Closet World and showed him everything it had to offer. Though he was getting progressively weaker his spirits never dampened, and that, in turn, made Tokui feel much better. His hair was also growing back, the effects of his discontinued chemo therapy having worn off. At least once a day they would hide in the closet or empty room together until the nurses found them and put them in their respective rooms. Once Hinoiri had asked if he could be moved to Tokui's room (since he had a roommate but Tokui didn't), but this request was declined because of the different kinds of care they required that put them in different sections (Tokui still needed to be medicated frequently, as well as have his oxygen replaced and fed through his feeding tube, whereas Hinoiri refused to be treated and didn't need constant care, just pain treatment).

Tokui had noticed that in the past couple of weeks he hadn't seen Hinoiri. He could only assume the reason for this was that the doctors were keeping a tighter guard on him considering his rapidly deteriorating condition. The only time Tokui had seen him in the past month was when Yuki had come to visit and Hinoiri had managed to come in in a wheelchair. Tokui had been hesitant to share his beloved uncle, even with his best friend, but since Hinoiri seemed more concerned with finding out details about Shuichi Tokui had stopped minding.

Another hang-up Tokui had about going "home" was he didn't know if his uncle was willing to brave his sister and keep coming to see him. He would much rather that "home" be his uncle's apartment, not his mother's house. Not even his sister lived with his mother. Though his twin sister Amai visited more often than Mika did, she still didn't come nearly as often as Yuki did. His sister spent most of her time with their father, either at his house or in his office at his record company, and only came to see him when their father did.

"K-Kaasan?" Tokui started, causing his mother to turn and look at him. She actually looked a little annoyed, which made him feel even more uncomfortable and almost made him rethink asking what he wanted to. "C-can I go and say good-bye to my friend?"

"Sure, but try to make it quick," Mika said as she returned to her packing. She appeared to be looking for something.

Tokui jumped off the bed and tried to pick up his oxygen tank. Though it was a small, portable one his weak joints and muscles prevented him from lifting it, so he put it on his blanket like he usually did and dragged it out of the room, not noticing that Mika was watching this peculiar display.

He was about half-way down the hall when a nurse found him. He thought she was going to send him back to his room, but instead she picked up his oxygen tank and got him a wheelchair so that he could sit with the tank in his lap. Evidently the word of his discharge had already spread. The nurse continued her rounds as he continued to wheel himself down the hall. Finally he came to the open door where Hinoiri and his roommate were staying. But when he looked in he didn't recognize either of the kids that were in there. They gave him a strange look as he continued to gape in, looking for any trace of where his friend had gone.

"Excuse me, son. Are you lost?" a male voice asked. Tokui turned around and saw a doctor standing behind him.

"Where did Hinoiri go?" he asked softly.

The doctor's face softened, and he cleared his throat. "Hinoiri is...gone."

"He was taken home?" Tokui asked.

The doctor's face grew sadder at this child's innocence. "I'm sorry but he...he passed on a few days ago."

Passed on. Those were the words that adults used to mean someone died. He'd heard them before. Tears sprung to Tokui's eyes as he looked in the room, as if expecting Hinoiri to appear, lopsided grin in place, asking why the doctor thought he was dead.

"No!" Tokui cried. He tore off his oxygen mask and jumped out of the wheelchair, the tank hitting the floor with a loud *CLANG*. He raced toward the closet where they had first met, a nurse jumping out of the way as he whizzed past. He threw open the door, expecting Hinoiri to be sitting there, waiting for him.

But no one was in there.

Tokui fell to his knees, sobbing and gasping for air. He wanted to die. He wanted to disappear and never come out. He wanted to retreat to Closet World and never see the real world again.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~

"Your sister doesn't like me."

"She doesn't like anyone."

"Huh?" Quon Yue asked, surprised that Tokui would speak ill of anyone.

"What?" Tokui asked back, looking up from his notepad. He didn't seem to realize he'd said anything.

"You just said that your sister doesn't like anyone," Quon Yue explained. They were in the stairwell between the third and fourth floors, Tokui sitting on the bottom step and Quon Yue smoking on the top one.

"I did?" Tokui asked, sincerely surprised. "I didn't realize I'd said that outloud. Must be because I'm not used to talking to other people. Anyway, it's true. If she can't manipulate them, outwit them, or otherwise degrade them or if she doesn't have anything to gain from being nice to them she wants nothing to do with them. And if you can prove you are superior to her in any way then she'll hate you. There are few exceptions, of course, like our father, but for the most part she doesn't like anyone. Did you beat her in an argument?"

"Well, I slapped her with a pretty harsh truth."

"That's even worse. You found a flaw in her. It's one thing to show you are better at something she's good at. It's another thing entirely to point out something she's bad at. Now she's probably plotting your downfall and ultimate demise."

"Just like her father. How cute."

Tokui shrugged. "She's a product of her environment. She looks like my father, she was raised by my father, therefore she acts like my father."

"Ah, the nature versus nurture argument," Quon Yue mused. "Personally, I go for nature. You compare where I grew up and what my parents were like to what I'm like then you'd agree with me."

Once again, Quon Yue was answered with nothing more than a shrug of the blonde boy's shoulders. He sighed and stepped out his cigarette, descending the staircase. He had figured out that while it was possible to initiate Tokui in conversation, the difficult part was keeping it going. If a conversation reached a certain point (usually where Tokui couldn't think of anything to say) he would go quiet and the entire line of conversation would end.

Quon Yue rubbed the back of his head, suddenly feeling nervous. His eyes turned the awkward white color that made his defect obvious as he looked down at his feet. "Um...uh...Tokui, can I ask you something?"

"You just did."

"Wow. We've been friends for about a week and a half and already you're a smartass. But this is important."

"All right. Then ask."

Quon Yue sighed. "Well, before you say no just hear me out. I kinda sorta need a pianist for my concert and-" he was cut short by Tokui's frightened expression. "You wouldn't be on stage! At least, no one would see you and you wouldn't see them. It's just that I need a really good pianist, one that I have chemistry with, and the session pianist wasn't any good."

Tokui blushed deeply. "I-I am not any good, either. I never had any proper lessons."

"You're a natural! I've heard you play! You can play it by ear, and it's just for one song." Tokui didn't seem to be giving in, so he decided he had one last chance. "I also kind of made a bet with Mr. Su- ah, Nakano-san about whether I could get you to play for me or not."

"Why did you do that?" Tokui asked, the shaky tone in his voice not fading.

"I didn't mean to make it a bet! When I told him that I wanted you as a pianist he got all smug and it rubbed me the wrong way so we made a bet about it. But the reason why I fired the session pianist was because I want you to play the piano for me. I don't think I can go on stage unless you're there. You'll be behind a curtain and no one will see you and you won't see anyone."

"Nakano-san didn't think I'd do it?" Tokui asked softly, blushing.

"Well, you can't really blame him," Quon Yue pointed out, but for the first time he looked up at Tokui, who was now blushing deep red. "Oh God...you like him, don't you?"

"I-I uh...well...yeah, I do," Tokui finally confessed. "I have for about two or three years now."

"Shit!" Quon Yue cried out hitting the wall. Tokui looked surprised at this, and noticing this expression Quon Yue decided to clarify. "I kinda...I...I slept with him. But it was just once, before I met you! And it was my fault, not his. He..." Quon Yue's eyes darkened to the deep blue color that meant he was reflecting on something. "He reminds me of someone."

Tokui swallowed and looked down at floor. Why was Quon Yue apologizing? He had no doubt that a man Hiro's age had slept with other people. And Quon Yue hadn't known him or known about his crush on Hiro.

"Don't apologize," he said softly. "I am...surprised. But not hurt. It's a childish crush, and it's not even as strong as it used to be. I don't mind that he sleeps with other people, and I am sure you wouldn't do anything to hurt me on purpose. And I will play the piano for you as long as no one can see me."

Quon Yue looked up, his eyes violet at first, but then shifting to silver-gray as he embraced Tokui tightly. "Thank you. This means a lot to me, a lot more than a stupid bet with my manager."

Tokui nodded. He wasn't sure if he could bring himself to actually play piano in public, but for Quon Yue he was willing to try. He suddenly looked up into Quon Yue's eyes. "Tell me...what was it like?"

~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Tokui was eight years old that day. At least, that's what his sister had told him. "We were born on different days," she said cheerfully. "I was born yesterday, and you were born today." This, of course, seemed to explain why Touma threw a big party for Amai the previous day and had done no such thing for Tokui.

Tokui was currently crouched in his closet now. The day that was supposedly his real birthdate was quickly drawing to a close, and no one had once acknowledged it. It seemd ridiculous to assume that they had forgotten, as he and his sister were twins. Even if they had their birthdays on different days, they were still close enough together that one couldn't forget them.

But the only other explanation was that they simply didn't care, and that hurt him worse than if everyone had simply forgot. Not that his birthday was the grand event that it was for Amai. He didn't have any friends, whereas she had several. He didn't want or need anything, while Amai wrote huge wish lists. But he did like sweets, and he'd at least gotten a little cake every year since he'd been home so far. While he still had to use his feeding tube most of the time, he could eat solid foods sparingly now, which was a sign of progress.

Tokui sniffled, telling himself not to cry. The citizens of Closet World hadn't forgotten his birthday, after all. It was a national holiday for them. But they didn't have cake, and they couldn't make his parents look his way. The first few tears slid down his cheeks, and he sniffled and tried to wipe them away without success, as they were quickly followed by more. They weren't going to remember. No one was. His sister was more important. She was bright and healthy and just like their father. She wasn't a freak like he was.

Tokui began to sob, which caused him to begin gasping. He groped in the darkness until he found his inhaler, shaking it as he had been taught to do so long ago. He took two puffs, but it failed to quell his choking sobs. He was about to try the medicine again when he saw a sliver of light penetrate the darkness of his sanctuary. The door slowly began to open, and a tall, shadowy figure stood on the other side.

Tokui gaped up at the shadow, releasing another sob mixed with a gasp for air. The shadowy figure knelt down and took the small boy in his arms, taking the small portable oxygen tank next to him into his hand, lifting him up and carrying him out of the closet, careful to pick up the blue sachel that contained his medications. Tokui buried his face in his uncle's shoulder and continued to cry and wheeze, causing the man whisper that it would be okay in an effort to stop the boy's painful crying.

Mika was standing in the hall, watching her brother as he picked up her sobbing, barely breathing son. He gave her an icy glare and proceeded to walk down the hall, the boy still crying in his arms.

"Where are you taking him?" Mika asked firmly, though she made no movement to stop him.

"My apartment," Yuki said gruffly. "Shuichi put together a little something for his birthday."

"Are you asking me or telling me? Dammit, he's my son."

"I'm telling you. And if he's your son then act like it. I don't appreciate finding my nephew crying in a closet on his birthday."

"He never wants to do anything for his birthday!"

"He never wants a party! That doesn't mean he doesn't want people to acknowledge it! Wish him a happy birthday, for chrissakes."

"It's kind of hard to wish him a happy birthday when he's stuffing himself in a closet all the time!"

"You could have made an effort to find him! It didn't seem to take me too long!"

Mika gave up arguing with her brother. She knew not only was it a futile gesture, but he was actually right: Tokui spending the night at his apartment would be better for him.

Tokui had stopped crying upon hearing someone had not only remembered his birthday but had actually done something for him. His uncle and his lover seemed to always be ready to make up for his parents' acts of neglect. In fact, they always seemed to plan things in anticipation that his parents weren't going to do anything for him. Tokui buried his face further into his father's shoulder, not wanting to see his mother before he left. It would most likely spoil his good mood.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Quon Yue was sitting on the windowsill in a reheasal room in the NG building, looking up at the night sky. Even though looking for the stars in this region would be futile, and even though they were concealed by clouds heavy with snow about to fall at any moment, just knowing that they were somewhere up there made him feel better somehow. 

"Chen-san?" a voice asked, literally bringing him back down to earth. Kyousei Himeko was organizing her briefcase as she spoke. "Are you sure you don't want to go home?"

"Positive. The concert is tomorrow. I need to prepare," Quon Yue said confidently. He stood, stretched out his lean frame, then leaned against the wall, lighting a cigarette. "Where'd Mr. Suit go?"

"I believe Nakano-san is down in the cafeteria getting something for dinner. You don't have a band here. How can you rehearse?"

"I don't have to have a band to sing, do I?"

Himeko had to concede she was beaten as she closed her briefcase with a sigh. "You also don't need to be here to sing."

"I can't sing at home. My cousin is an ass."

Himeko didn't bother asking what those two things had to do with each other, if for no reason than she didn't want to have to waste time listening to his long and bizaar explaination.

"What's the matter? You're husband missing you or something?" Quon Yue asked suddenly, flicking his ashes into the trashcan.

"I'm not married," she answered.

"Boyfriend?"

"No."

"Girlfriend?"

"No!"

"Don't answer him when he talks," a slightly annoyed, slightly bemused voice ordered from the doorway.

Quon Yue's eyes widened and turned violet briefly before his grin returned, eyes shifting to the bright blue that always meant trouble. "Mr. Suit! I'd given you up for dead! I was just about to ask producer chick here what she does for sex."

"Why? Are you offering your services?" Himeko asked, surprising both of the men present.

Quon Yue recovered quickly, however, never one to be taken off guard for very long. "I don't think you could afford them on your sallary."

Hiro wasn't sure if this was confirmation of his suspicions of the younger man's current occupation or if he was simply being a smartass. Neither would have surprised him much. He simply placed his coffee on the table in the center of the room. "So did you do it?" he asked simply.

Quon Yue nodded. "Sure did. He's ready and willing to go tomorrow...as long as we keep him out of sight."

"Am I missing something here?" Himeko asked, taking the coffee Hiro offered her.

"Chen here is trying to tell me that he somehow managed to get Seguchi Tokui to play piano for him tomorrow, which is highly unlikely and we have a bet on it."

"The president's son?"

"Yes, that Seguchi Tokui," Quon Yue answered before Hiro could pick up the question. "He's my best friend. And he agreed to do it. Not just for me, either."

Hiro widened his eyes in disbelief. "That's impossible. He won't even show himself to a few people. He's honestly going to go on stage tomorrow and play piano in front of hundreds of strangers?"

"If we keep him out of sight, like I said. Ask him if you don't believe me. Now, I do believe it's time for you to pay up."

Hiro sighed, afraid of what kind of things this young man's sadistic mind was cooking up to make him do. No doubt it was something humiliating.

"If I am not mistaken, this weekend is Seguchi Touma's engagement party," Quon Yue started. Hiro quirked an eyebrow, wondering where this was going. "Seguchi Touma is marrying your former producer, Sakano Ayame. Therefore it stands to reason you got an invitation. You will go to that party. And you will ask Tokui if he would like to dance."

Hiro's jaw dropped. He opened and closed his mouth a few times like a fish that had been suddenly thrown on shore. Then his voice returned, as if someone had thrown the fish back into the water. "Why?" he asked simply.

"Why do you think, yue chún¹? He has a thing for you. And there's no way in hell he'd tell you so. I was going to ask you if you could tell Shindou-san to dance with me, but after the hell I'm going to put Tokui through tomorrow I think he deserves to have his wish granted more than I do."

Hiro looked down at the floor. He had suspected that Tokui had a crush on him. But what would he do if Hiro asked him to dance? Run and hide? That was unlikely. Tokui was too polite for that and liked Hiro too much. He probably would dance with him because he thought it would please Hiro, but he would also enjoy it himself. And Quon Yue seemed to know him better than anyone else and was also a fairly intelligent person, so if there was a remote possibility of something going wrong from this then he would have figured it out.

"All right. Fine. I'll do it. But only if Tokui really is playing the piano tomorrow for you. I'm not making any promises until I see it with my own eyes."

"Deal."

~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Tokui smoothed down the front of his school uniform. Twelve years old, and yet this was his first day of school ever. Amai had tried to assure him it would be no big deal, but he was still having doubts. He'd never been in a crowd so large in his life, and already students were staring at him and whispering.

Tokui blushed deep red and walked into the building, ignoring the fact that all the other children were spread around the campus outside. He didn't want to play outside with those children. And really, he couldn't. The school already had all the notes from his doctor saying he shouldn't go outside or engage in very much physical activity. He was also the only student who had an oxygen mask strapped to his face.

And thus was the beginning of the short reign of the Pale Gaijinn² Who Couldn't See the Sun, as the students called him. When he was lucky, that was.

Tokui took his seat in the back of the classroom that he had been assigned to for homeroom. Not even the teacher was there yet, and he wondered if he would get in trouble for being in the school. After what seemed like eternity the bell rang, and students began to file into the room, followed shortly after by the teacher.

He wasn't in his sister's class, he'd noted with dismay. And all the students had swivelled around in their seats to look at him. Tokui shrunk down in his seat and began harder, and with that the day began.

The staring wasn't the problem. Neither was recess, where he stayed inside and wrote in his notebook with the pen his uncle had given him for his last birthday. His sister had thought it was a a "stupid" gift, not like the things she was used to getting. Amai just didn't realize, however, that the thought and practicallity behind this gift made it the greatest Tokui had ever recieved. He never asked for anything, and to get something obviously chosen with his personality in consideration and not something random to be polite made it wonderful.

The next few classes were also not too bad. More stares from different sets of eyes, but nothing too bad.

It was lunch that was horrible.

Tokui had brought his own lunch due to his dietary restictions, and it was in much smaller portions than kids his age usually ate. Students were watching as he pulled out the strange items: two pieces of what looked like plain white bread. One nigiri. Two sticks of vanilla Pocky. One bottle of apple juice.

He removed his mask, ready to nibble on a piece of bread, when two large boys walked over to him. He looked up at them, gold eyes filling with fear as he put his bread back down and replaced his mask.

"Whatcha got there, gaijinn?" one asked teasingly, taking his bread and sqeezing both slices into one thick, doughy mass.

"Not much, by the looks of it," the other said, taking his nigiri and dropping it onto the floor, stepping on it.

"And now he has nothing!" the first boy said, picking up his bottle of juice and pouring it onto the floor. The other boy laughed hysterically and began to eat the Pocky. Tokui wanted to cry, but all he could do was gasp and wheeze.

"Aw, look, little baby wants to cry!" one boy taunted. He grabbed hold of his face mask and dropped it onto the floor, putting his foot in front of it when Tokui reached for it, gasping for air. "Go back to where you came from, freak."

"What the hell are you doing?!" a voice asked from behind them. Both boys turned and looked at the diminuitive but still intimdating figure that was Seguchi Amai. "That's my brother, you know!"

The boys widened their eyes. "Look, we're sorry, we didn't know-"

"Well, you know now! Now get the hell away from him!" Amai ordered. The boys nodded dumbly and ran away as Amai handed Tokui his mask. As soon as he had it back on he picked up his oxygen and turned and retreated from the lunchroom, not thanking his saviour.

Later the teacher entered a classroom to see a group of students gathered around the closet door in the back of the room. He quirked an eyebrow and looked at the odd gathering. "What's going on here?" he asked at last.

"Tokui's locked himself in the closet and won't come out."

~*~*~*~*~*~*~

It was less than ten minutes before Quon Yue was set to go on stage and begin the concert, and Hiro was pacing around nervously. When Quon Yue had arrived about an hour before he'd been wearing black jeans and a black turtleneck sweater. When Hiro had acted shocked and asked if that was his image Quon Yue had just smiled and pointed to his duffle bag before disappearing again.

Tokui was there, behind a black screen that concealed the piano on the stage, but Hiro wondered how much longer he'd stay there. Just the sound of all the people talking was making him shake like a leaf, and without Quon Yue there it was only a matter of time before he made a break for it, leaving Quon Yue piano-less for the set.

"You look about ready to piss your pants, Mr. Suit," a voice that was as smooth as silk said from behind Hiro.

"Finally!" Hiro cried before turning around and gasping. He thought he'd seen all Quon Yue had to offer in terms of surprises. But now he could see he was sadly mistaken.

Quon Yue stood before him, the silver half of his hair tied up in a ponytail while the blue half hung loose. The left side of his face was made up, but at the same cut-off point that his hair had his face was unmade. His clothes were also divided this way: on the left side he had a white tank-top (which was stuffed slightly) and a black leather mini skirt and wore one black platform shoe. On his right side he had somehow managed to sew onto the tank-top half about half of a black T-shirt, and the miniskirt was sewed onto a pair of pale blue jeans. He was wearing a black combat boot on that foot. As always, his jewelry was still all in place.

"Where the hell did you find that outfit?!" Hiro all but shrieked.

"I made it. Like my image, Mr. Suit?" Quon Yue asked teasingly, twirling around. "Based on a sideshow attraction from America during the 1920s. They used to employ 'half-and-half's, which usually were just men who grew out they beard and worked out on one side and wore make-up and part of a dress on the other side. I think it complements my two sides nicely, don't you?"

"How the hell do you expect people to like you when you're dressed like that?!" Hiro snapped.

Quon Yue shrugged. "The people are strange. They've gone for stranger things. Now, if you excuse me, I must get on stage for my set."

Quon Yue walked toward the stage, ignoring the stares his session band gave him. He walked over to where Tokui was behind his curtain, embraced him tightly, then took center stage, waiting for the curtain to rise.

"He's really something else, isn't he?" a female voice asked.

Hiro turned and saw Himeko step up to him. "Shindou-san is with Neo Grasper in the dressing rooms right now. He doesn't know about this. I saw him in the hallway. He's right, though: for every strange gimmick there is a fanbase."

"I'll take your word for it since you've been in this business longer than I have," Hiro told her. "But I just hope and pray you're write or it'll be my ass in the fire."

Just then the curtain began to rise, and Hiro held his breath. The audience suddenly went quiet as Quon Yue approached the microphone.

"Good evening, everyone!" he announced. The audience didn't seem to respond, but Quon Yue didn't seem to notice. "I am your opening act, Chen Quon Yue, here to perform a little number in my native Chinese. Hope you all like it!"

Quon Yue didn't wait for a response. He gestured to his band, and first Tokui began to play, but the others joined in a symphonic sounding intro. Suddenly, the music seemed to hit a climax...only to soften as Quon Yue joined in with his vocals, his eyes turning indigo as he did so.

"Zai wo nian shao de shi hou Shen bian de ren shuo bu ke yi liu lei   
Zai wo cheng shou le yi hou Dui jing zi shuo wo bu ke yi hou hui   
Zai yi ge fan wei bu ting de pai hui   
Xin zai sheng ming xian shang bu duan de lun hui   
Ren zai ri ri ye ye cheng zhe mian ju shui Wo xin li jiao cui..."

Quon Yue pointed his eyes at the stage and began to sing breathily.

"Ming ming liu lei de shi hou Que wang le yan jing zen yang qu liu lei   
Ming ming hou hui de shi hou Que wang le xin li zen yang qu hou hui   
Wu xing de ya li ya de wo hen lei   
Kai shi jue de hu xi you yi dian nan wei   
Kai shi man man xie xia fang wei..."

He suddenly threw his head back up. "Man man hou hui Man man liu lei!"

The band began to play harder again and Quon Yue crossed the stage, the sweat pouring from his face. 

"Nan ren ku ba ku ba ku ba Bu shi zui   
Zai qiang de ren ye you quan li qu pi bei   
Wei xiao bei hou ruo zhi shen xin sui   
Zuo ren he bi ling de na me lang bei   
Nan ren ku ba ku ba ku ba Bu shi zui   
Chang chang kuo bie yi jiu yan lei de zi wei   
Jiu suan xia yu ye shi yi zhong mei   
Bu ru hao hao ba wo zhe ge ji hui Tong ku yi hui."

There was a period of instrumental where Quon Yue fell to the stage. The fans suddenly seemed to erupt, though they didn't understand what was being sung. He drew himself back to his feet as the music reached it's climax again, and then once again softened.

"Ming ming liu lei de shi hou Que wang le yan jing zen yang qu liu lei   
Ming ming hou hui de shi hou Que wang le xin li zen yang qu hou hui   
Wu xing de ya li ya de wo hen lei   
Kai shi jue de hu xi you yi dian nan wei   
Kai shi man man xie xia fang wei Man man hou hui Man man liu lei!"

He ran to the other side of the stage and looked at the fans that were now cheering for him.

"Nan ren ku ba ku ba ku ba Bu shi zui   
Zai qiang de ren ye you quan li qu pi bei   
Wei xiao bei hou ruo zhi shen xin sui   
Zuo ren he bi ling de na me lang bei   
Nan ren ku ba ku ba ku ba Bu shi zui   
Chang chang kuo bie yi jiu yan lei de zi wei   
Jiu suan xia yu ye shi yi zhong mei   
Bu ru hao hao ba wo zhe ge ji hui Tong ku yi hui!"

The music began a soft classical melody and he went back to the center stage.

"Nan ren ku ba ku ba ku ba Bu shi zui   
Zai qiang de ren ye you quan li qu pi bei   
Wei xiao bei hou ruo zhi shen xin sui   
Zuo ren he bi ling de na me lang bei..."

The music picked up once again and he fell to his knees.

"Nan ren ku ba ku ba ku ba Bu shi zui   
Chang chang kuo bie yi jiu yan lei de zi wei   
Jiu suan xia yu ye shi yi zhong mei   
Bu ru hao hao ba wo zhe ge ji hui Tong ku yi hui..."

The music drew to a close, and the fans went crazy as Quon Yue walked over behind the curtain where Tokui was still sitting. The cutains fell closed and the musicians began to scatter as Quon Yue walked back toward Hiro, Tokui in tow.

"Well, I'll be damned..." was all Hiro could manage.

"I told you it would work out," Quon Yue said knowingly. "You just need to have some faith, Mr. Suit. Now, pardon me, I'm going to go change my clothes."

As he walked toward the hallway, followed by Tokui, he passed the members of Neo Grasper. Alexander sized him up before following his bandmates toward the stage, their parents in tow.

"Your act sounded great," K told Hiro with an approving nod.

"He didn't look great, though," Touma pointed out. "I thought I told you to fix that."

"The audience liked it, didn't they?" Hiro pointed out.

Touma opened his mouth to say something, but the curtain was rising, so he cut it off short. Alexander was in front of the microphone, and Amai and Saki were behind him on keyboards.

"Hello everyone!" Alexander called out to the audience. They took one good look at the band and began to cheer ecstacially. "I know you came to see Seguchi Amai tonight, and you will see her. But first, just listen to a song by us. We're Neo Grasper!" Whether it was because they recognized Amai and Saki in the band, Alex was cute, or they recognized the name from Nittle Grasper, the audience went crazy. 

"On keyboards, we have Ukai Saki!" Saki waved at the crowd, and those who recognized her began to cheer.

"On keyboards and back-up vocal, Seguchi Amai!" Amai bowed slightly, causing her own fans to call out enthsiatically. She gave Saki a look that made her scowl.

"And on vocals is myself, Alexander Sakuma-Winchester!" The audience gave one last deafening cheer, and as soon as it died down Alex gestured to the girls, who began to play the catching intro. He grabbed the mic and began to sing.  
  
"Once upon a time  
Once when you were mine  
I remember skies  
Reflected in your eyes  
I wonder where you are  
I wonder if you  
Think about me  
Once upon a time  
In your wildest dreams  
  
Once the world was new  
Our bodies felt the morning dew  
That greets the brand new day  
We couldn't tear ourselves away  
I wonder if you care  
I wonder if you still remember  
Once upon a time  
In your wildest dreams  
  
And when the music plays  
And when the words are  
Touched with sorrow  
When the music plays  
I hear the sound  
I had to follow  
Once upon a time  
  
Once beneath the stars  
The universe was ours  
Love was all we knew  
And all I knew was you  
I wonder if you know  
I wonder if you  
Think about it  
Once upon a time  
In your wildest dreams  
  
And when the music plays  
And when the words are  
Touched with sorrow  
When the music plays  
And when the music plays  
I hear the sound  
I had to follow  
Once upon a time  
  
Once upon a time  
Once when you were mine  
I remember skies  
Mirrored in your eyes  
I wonder where you are  
I wonder if you  
Think about me  
Once upon a time  
In your wildest dreams  
  
In your wildest dreams  
  
In your wildest dreams...."

The audience erupted into thundarous applause as the curtain fell, and Neo Grasper walked off stage. Amai remained, however, joined by a team of session musicians.

"See? Now that's music!" K praised, clapping a hand on his son's shoulder.

"Dad, you have to say that," Alex said modestly in English. "But I had this for luck!" He reached under the vest he was wearing and produced a large Beretta.

K smiled and pulled a similar one from the shouled holster under his jacket. "That's my boy."

"That's my Dad," Alex said back.

"That's a pair of loaded semi-automatic weapons," Hiro added, causing both to holster their guns. After all, the curtain was raising again, and Amai was ready to sing.

"itsuka ha umareru mae kara kitto  
kawaranai mono sagashitsudzukete ha  
mitsukete ushinatte toki ni  
hito wo kizu tsuketa yoru mo atta  
  
moshimo tatta hitotsu dake negai ga kanau nara  
moshimo tatta hitotsu dake negai ga kanau nara  
kimi ha nani wo inoru  
kono sora ni kimi ha nani wo inoru  
  
tsuyoku hoshigaru kimochi no soba de  
dokoka akirame oboehajimete ha  
mitsukete tebanashite toki ni  
jibun wo kizu tsuketa yoru mo atta  
  
moshimo kimi ni sashidaseru mono ga aru to sureba  
moshimo kimi ni sashidaseru mono ga aru to sureba  
kawaranu tashika na omoi  
  
honno sukoshi demo waratte kureru nara  
mada koko ni ikiru imi mo aru yo ne  
honno sukoshi demo motomete kureru nara  
mada koko ni ikiru koto yurusareru kana  
  
moshimo tatta hitotsu dake negai ga kanau nara  
moshimo tatta hitotsu dake negai ga kanau nara  
kimi ha nani wo inoru  
  
moshimo kimi ni sashidaseru mono ga aru to sureba  
moshimo kimi ni sashidaseru mono ga aru to sureba  
kawaranu tashika na omoi  
sou kawaranu tashika na omoi  
nee koko ni..."

Touma watched his daughter proudly as she went into the tune. Just then Quon Yue and Tokui appeared behind the small group. It was a night none of them would soon forget....

End of Chapter 10

Goo's Note- Sorry the ending sucked, but this chapter was so damn long I just wanted it to be OVER. Anyway, here's the translations: 

It's Not a Crime For a Man to Cry

When I was young, the people next to me said not to cry   
After I matured, I said to the mirror I cannot regret   
In this range I'm pacing back and forth nonstop   
My heart is continuously transmigrating* on the brink of life   
I sleep while maintaining a mask day and night; my heart's strength is becoming overworked   
  
When it's clearly time to cry, I've forgotten how to cry tears from my eyes   
When it's clearly time to regret, I've forgotten how to let my heart regret   
An invisible pressure is pressing down on me until I'm very tired   
Starting to feel that breathing is a little difficult   
Start to slowly dismantle my defenses, slowly regret, slowly cry...   
  
It's not a crime for a man to cry, cry, cry   
Even stronger people have the right to be exhausted   
If only a broken heart is left behind after laughter   
Why must I be so thoroughly cold in order to be a person?   
It's not a crime for a man to cry, cry, cry   
Sample the flavor of long-separated tears   
Just as falling rain is a kind of beauty   
It's better to hold this opportunity well, and suffer one round

*This is a Buddhist term, meaning "Transmigration (of the soul).

Never Ever

  
Sometime, surely before I was born,  
I was searching for something unchanging.  
I'd find it, and lose it, and sometimes  
there were nights where I hurt people.  
  
If just one of your wishes could come true,  
If just one of your wishes could come true,  
what would you wish for?  
What would you wish for, here, under this sky?  
  
Despite my strong desire,  
I started giving up.  
I'd find it, release it, and sometimes  
there were nights when I hurt myself.  
  
If there were something I could give to you,  
If there were something I could give to you,  
It would be my unchanging, certain thoughts.  
  
If you'll laugh for me, even just a little,  
then there's still a reason for me to live here.  
If you'll search for me, even just a little,  
then maybe my living here will be forgiven.  
  
If just one of your wishes could come true,  
If just one of your wishes could come true,  
what would you wish for?  
  
If there were something I could give to you,  
If there were something I could give to you,  
It would be my unchanging, certain thoughts.  
Yes, my unchanging, certain thoughts.  
Right here.


	11. Day and Night

Goo's Note- This is probably the halfway point of the fic, so it's a pretty crucial chapter. And the lyrics Quon Yue sings part of are "The Logical Song" by Supertramp (one of my favorite songs right now. Too bad I can't think of a good fic to write to it).

**Heart's Façade**

**Chapter Eleven: Day and Night**

**Written by A Girl Named Goo**

"You know what? Every time I start to like you even a _tiny_ bit you have to go and pull a damn foolish stunt like the one you did last night!" Hiro all but howled.

Quon Yue took a drag off of his cigarette and looked up at Hiro, bright blue eyes mocking him and smug smile plastered on his face. "So quit, Mr. Suit. Unlike some former employees of ill repute around here I am not holding a gun to your head and making you work with me."

Hiro had a thousand things he could have said-quips, excuses, insults- but instead he went straight for his secret weapon. "You know, you look just like your father when you smile like that."

Just as Hiro had expected Quon Yue's face turned into an icy mask, his eyes changing color to match. He smashed his cigarette out on the corner of the table and pitched it into the trashcan. "That's low, Nakano. Low even for you."

"Oh, so I'm low now? Or are you confusing me with someone else, someone you look at every morning in the mirror while you fix up your pretty hair and make-up?"

Himeko cleared her throat, drawing the attention of the quarrelling men. "At any rate," she began, "the concert last night was a success. According to these numbers Chen-san's approval rating is quite high. And when he releases his CD we can expect him to chart at the very least. Of course, with Amai's recent CD release and Neo Grasper's formation imminent we can't expect to rise to number one, but if we can sell a million albums then we should be secure."

"You say 'a million albums' like it's an easy thing to achieve," Hiro muttered, exasperated.

"I'm sorry, Nakano-san, but the fact of the matter is I've seen a lot of acts come and go. Chen-san is talented enough to go far, but he's shaped a less than marketable image for himself. Yes, the fans at the concert enjoyed him last night, but that means nothing. He was something new and he was on stage. That doesn't mean they will actively seek him out. We are really reaching out to a niche market, one which might not have one million people willing to buy CDs in it."

"Would you stop talking about me like I'm not here?" Quon Yue snapped. "I don't give a shit how many albums I sell. I just want to be able to say I was something at one point."

"Oh, you're something all right," Hiro muttered, rolling his eyes.

"You know what? Fuck you!" Quon Yue cried out at last in exasperation. He stood up, smoothing the black skirt of his mock black-and-blue schoolgirl uniform and walked toward the exit of the room. Before he could leave the room entirely, however, he turned and looked back in. "You know, Mr. Suit, you might hate me, loathe me, dread every moment you have to spend with me, but I can't hate you. I want to, and I try to, but I really can't, so there must be a damn good reason for it. Think about that for a while."

And with that Quon Yue thundered out of the room.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~

"So, tomorrow is this grand ball of your father's?" Quon Yue asked. He was sitting on the floor, Tokui leaning against him and writing.

"Yes," was the simple answer as Tokui turned a page in his notebook.

"Is it a formal affair? Never mind, I know the answer to that. I'm just no good at this society thing."

"Neither am I."

Quon Yue had to laugh at that. He had to admit that he _did_ have difficulty imagining Tokui in anything but his plain black streetclothes. Though he had grown up in wealth and privilege he'd chosen to live a Spartan lifestyle, and now it was hard to imagine him being any other way.

"Your father really goes for the whole tuxedo-and-ballgown thing?"

"Oh, yes. Contrary to popular belief he isn't a self-made man. He was born into money, and quite a great deal of it. Strange as his sense of fashion is he still likes to play dress-up when it's time to meet other people who were born with silver spoons in their mouths or have learned to leach off those who were. You can just smell the mold on the money the second you step foot into one of his parties."

"You don't like your father's parties?"

"I don't like _any_ parties. But his I am especially not fond of. They all end the same way: he makes Shindou-san feel three inches high and then sends him on some humiliatingly meaningless task, gets very drunk and then does something stupid, and in the meantime my sister is preening and kissing up and trying to draw attention away from him."

Quon Yue had to bite his lip to keep from laughing. "You're kidding, right? If that were true you'd look forward to your father's parties."

"Oh, no. It's not nearly as funny as it sounds. I spend the evening hiding in the coat closet usually and then when the guests go to get their coats I scare them."

"On purpose?"

Tokui blushed. "No. They open the closet and I'm sitting just behind the shoes. It causes them to jump."

"Oh. And here I thought you were secretly this party animal who wears scary masks and jumps out at the rich society bitches."

Tokui shook his head, but he was biting his lip to keep from smiling back. "No, I don't do anything like that. I just sit in the closet. I make my token appearance so people know my father hasn't secretly sent his son off or killed him and then I am free to do what I please for the rest of the night. And I have to wear a tuxedo. I have to look presentable so that Otousan looks good, after all."

"Won't you sign up your name, we'd like to feel you're acceptable, respectable, presentable, a vegetable," Quon Yue half sang softly.

"What?" Tokui asked, confused.

"Nothing. I heard it somewhere before. Anyway, I guess I have to see about renting myself a tux. Or a ballgown. Guess it depends on how I feel that day. I suppose I should rent one of each just in case."

Tokui closed his notebook and stood, stretching. "You could always ask Nakano-san if he could find you one. He knows where to rent them."

Quon Yue cringed and climbed to his feet, also stretching. "We aren't on good terms right now. I kind of told him to fuck off."

"Why did you do that?!" Tokui asked, shocked

Quon Yue shrugged. "He was being an ass."

Tokui had a difficult time imagining Hiro being an "ass", but he decided not to question Quon Yue's actions. He knew that his friend didn't get along with the older man and therefore it wasn't all that surprising he would call him names and tell him to perform rude and physically impossible actions.

"At any rate I have to do _something_ if I want a tuxedo," Quon Yue said, more to himself then his best friend. "Maybe if you come with me he'll stop acting like an ass and agree to help. After all, he wouldn't want to insult me when my cute little best friend is standing right next to me."

Tokui shifted uncomfortably. Though his crush on Hiro was waning, it was still there and he couldn't ignore it, even if it was so that his best friend could ask for a tuxedo.

"He won't even have to talk to you. It's just so he'll have incentive to behave himself," Quon Yue explained.

Tokui sighed. "All right. I suppose I'll go."

~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Touma chewed on the end of his pen, a nervous habit he'd had since he was young, then sighed and looked at his daughter, who was sitting across from him, leafing through a fashion magazine. He removed his reading glasses and put the pad of paper he had in front of him down on his desk. Though he'd long since planned the menu for his engagement party he'd forgotten to take his son's dietary restrictions into mind

"Can your brother eat anything with beef in it?" Touma asked.

Amai shook her head. "He has a metabolic disorder that keeps him from digesting protein in food. He has to take a supplement for that."

"Poultry?"

"It's possible, but I think the last time someone tried to feed him chicken he got an impacted bowel so I don't know."

"Vegetables?"

"As long as they're the expensive organic kind. He's allergic to the chemicals on normal vegetables. He can't eat anything that has been chemically treated or contains preservatives of any kind."

"How about desert?"

"He can eat sweets sparingly, but not often. He can't metabolize sugar very well."

Touma rubbed his temples. "Then here's a simpler question: what _can_ he eat?"

Amai looked up from her magazine and removed her own reading glasses, seemingly giving this a lot of consideration. "I don't know. I usually make him macaroni and cheese, but you obviously can't serve him that. You'd have to ask Shindou-san. He cooks most of his meals."

Touma hoped that his daughter didn't see how hurt he was at that remark as he jotted down a note to talk to Shuichi about his son's diet. He dreaded this encounter, however, since it would mean admitting to Shuichi that he knew Tokui better than he did. Though this was an obvious fact, it still felt like a defeat to him, and if it was one thing Seguchi Touma didn't do unless it was unavoidable it was admit defeat.

"Tousan, what do you think of this dress?" Amai asked, handing him the magazine and pointing at a green strapless, floor-length dress.

Touma readjusted his glasses and looked over the magazine. "It's nice, but I thought you already had a dress for the party."

"I do, but this is the one I want to get for my next special occasion."

Touma sighed and looked between his daughter and the magazine. "We'll see," he said.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~

"You have a lot of nerve," Hiro muttered as he looked between Quon Yue and Tokui, making sure he kept his language clean for the latter. "After what you pulled earlier why should I do you any favors?"

"What _I_ pulled? _You_ started it!" Quon Yue argued.

"_Someone_ needs to keep you in line! You are out to make a complete fool of yourself and when the time comes I am _not_ going to pull your ass out of the fire!"

"So you've said! And I am not asking you to baby-sit me, I'm asking you for a damn tuxedo!"

Hiro looked down at the table he was sitting at. "Why do you want to go to this party, anyway?"

"For Tokui."

"I thought you hated Seguchi Touma."

Quon Yue smirked. "Well, he has his good qualities."

"Like what?" Hiro and Tokui asked at the same time. Tokui blush and stared at his feet.

Quon Yue lit a cigarette before holding his finger up in the air and twirling it slightly, raising the pitch of his voice so that it matched Touma's much lighter tone. "He makes the trains run on time¹."

At first Hiro and Tokui just gaped at Quon Yue. Tokui was the first to cover his mouth to hide the smile that had crawled to his face, though it wasn't enough to muffle his soft laughter. Hiro was the next to start laughing. He just couldn't help himself: the combination of the joke and the tone Quon Yue had used to make it had made it an undoubtedly funny moment.

"And here I thought you two wouldn't get that. At least, I was sure _you_ wouldn't, Mr. Suit," Quon Yue said softly.

"They didn't call me the 'genius guitarist' for nothing," Hiro brought up, but he was still laughing.

"Does this mean you'll rent me a tux?"

"No. But I'll let you borrow one of mine. You're a little shorter than me, but you take what you can get."

"Deal."

Hiro looked up and noticed Tokui laughing for the first time. He widened his eyes, then looked back at Quon Yue.

Quon Yue mashed out his cigarette and smiled. "He has a pretty smile, doesn't he?"

Hiro just nodded and looked at Tokui, who had stopped smiling and was now staring at his feet, blushing.

"Yeah," was the only thing Hiro could force himself to say.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~

"I hate tuxedos."

"You also hate Seguchi-san's dinner parties."

"Yeah, but I hate wearing tuxedos even more. They're so stuffy."

Yuki sighed as he tied Shuichi's black bowtie. It had been an uphill battle to even get Shuichi to agree to wear a "monkey suit", as he called it, but even though he agreed to wear a tuxedo he was wearing a light pink shirt and a hot pink cummerbund that matched his hair color.

"Why am I going to this again?" Shuichi asked as Yuki finished tying the bowtie. He immediately took a safety pin out of the bowl on his bedside table and put it in his mouth as he rolled up his sleeve, then he pinned it up.

"Because you were invited. And possibly to support your former producer," Yuki explained, examining his own tuxedo. He and Tokui had identical tuxedos with white shirts and yellow cummerbunds. Shuichi had thought the sight of them standing next to one another wearing their tuxedos had been too adorable and insisted on getting pictures. Of course, neither Yuki and Tokui were very photogenic, and any pictures taken without them shielding their faces would have them both looking rather unamused.

"Oh yeah" Shuichi said, as if this realization were just dawning on him. "Can you believe my invitation got lost in the mail? And here I was thinking I wasn't invited. At least Sakano-san sent one to Hiro, too."

Yuki hadn't bothered to tell Shuichi that he _hadn't_ been invited. Touma had intentionally not sent him one, as he had suspected, to see if Yuki brought him as an excuse to make him feel uncomfortable. Sakano had assumed he hadn't been sent an invitation since it was implied he and Yuki would be going together, though she had made sure she sent Hiro one, much to Touma's chagrin.

"Are you going to spend the night in here babbling or are you going to finish getting ready?" Yuki snapped. Though he'd never admit it, he also hated Touma's dinner parties, and for many of the same reasons Shuichi did. But as Touma was his best friend, former brother-in-law, and father of his nephew Yuki couldn't bring himself to decline the invitation.

"Just a second," Shuichi told him, disappearing from the room. Yuki followed him into the bathroom, where he was attacking his unruly pink locks with generous portions of hairspray. "Done!" he announced, exiting the bathroom and running smack into Yuki. "Hey! Watch where you're standing!"

Yuki stepped out of the way of his lover, deciding not to hinder their progress further. Tokui was already sitting on the couch, waiting for them.

"Hiro is bringing your friend, right?" Shuichi asked. When Tokui nodded he grinned broadly. "All right! Let's go!"

~*~*~*~*~*~*~

"You look good."

"I don't feel good. What are you, a giant?"

"I told you to take what you can get."

Hiro finished tying Quon Yue's bowtie. It was painfully obvious the young man had no experience when it came to wearing formal wear: he hadn't been able to figure out what his bowtie and cummerbund were for. After some struggling on both men's parts Hiro had finally managed to make him look presentable (despite the fact the suit hung off of him, making him look like a little kid playing dress-up). After some convincing Quon Yue had agreed to tie his hair back, and Hiro had to admit that it was possible cleaning up streetkids was his calling.

"You can tell what kinds of people are meant to have money," Quon Yue noted, his eyes stormy blue-gray as he fumbled with his bowtie a bit. "If they look good dressed up, then they are supposed to. If they look awkward then they are supposed to be poor."

"You do look good," Hiro persisted, wondering why he was trying to reassure this boy. As far as he was concerned they still didn't like each other, even if Quon Yue insisted he didn't hate him. "You just need to put on a little weight. Or get a tuxedo made in your size."

Hiro had never realized how very small Quon Yue was before he'd helped him get dressed. Even when they'd slept together the lights had been off and Quon Yue had made a conscious effort not to let Hiro see him. Usually Quon Yue wore dark, baggy clothes that at the very least created the illusion he was tall, if not just lean rather than dreadfully thin. But now Hiro's clothes were making him look as tiny and delicate as Tokui had ever managed to look, and the dark blue cummerbund had to be loosened lest it look awkward on his almost non-existent waist.

"You think I'm ready for my first society party?" Quon Yue asked, examining himself in the mirror. He still didn't look pleased with his appearance, but he'd promised Tokui he'd be there, no matter how he was dressed.

"No. But you're going anyway. Now come on."

~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Amai walked around the large hall of her father's mansion, meeting and greeting all of the high-society friends of Touma. She knew that she looked good in her emerald green silk spaghetti-strap dress, gold and emerald necklace, and gold and emerald earrings. She smiled winningly at an older couple and scanned the room for her date.

Alexander was standing near the food table, wearing a red carnation that matched his cummerbund. Amai found herself wishing he'd consulted her on what to wear, but decided she'd best take what she could get. As she began to walk toward him, however, she found her view of him obscured. At first she wasn't sure who had stepped in her way, but as she squinted to get a better look she found herself suppressing the urge to groan. She knew that backless lavender dress and swept-up violet hair anywhere.

Biting back her rage, Amai approached the usurper and tapped her on her shoulder. Saki swung around to look at her, violet eyes wide with surprise and then easing to a smug look. Her dress was probably very expensive, as it had what appeared to be a hand-beaded bodice, and she was wearing a silver and amethyst pendant that hung into her ample cleavage and silver and amethyst earrings that, if worn for any great deal of time, would probably stretch her earlobes down to her shoulders.

"Amai!" she cried out in genuine surprise. "You look...feminine."

Before Amai could respond (she had been about to say "and you look slightly less slutty than usual") Alexander stepped in.

"I think you look beautiful," he told her, smiling. He then started to look around. "When is the dinner half of this dinner party?"

Both girls were taken aback by this sudden change of topic, but Amai answered anyway. "As soon as all the guests are here and Tousan has greeted them all."

"Okay. I get it," Alexander said with a nod. He grabbed another h'or duerve and started to run toward someone. "Dad! Tousan!" he shouted as he tried to run and eat at the same time.

"So much for him being your date," Saki said to Amai with an aggravatingly smug tone of voice. "He was saying some very...flattering things to me before you got here."

"And I should believe you _why_?" Amai shot back. She was definitely feeling threatened now, and was getting ready to get into attack mode should the need arise.

"Believe whatever you want, but I'm sure you know the truth. Have fun." And with that, Saki walked away from the table.

Amai was going to pursue her and demand to know the details, but was interrupted by a voice behind her. "Amai, could you come here?"

Amai turned to face her further. He usually didn't wear tuxedos, and with his cummerbund the same color and material as Amai's dress one could easily mistake the pair as twins rather than father and daughter. If only he'd taken off the hat...

"Coming, Tousan," she told him, walking over to him. Saki would have to pay for what she had said later...

~*~*~*~*~*~*~

"I am just no good at this society thing..." Quon Yue muttered. He was currently sitting next to Tokui at the long table in the dining hall of the mansion, with some older woman he didn't recognize to his other side.

"Don't worry. You're doing better than I am," Tokui whispered back.

In all actuality they were probably tied for being most awkward so far. The first part of the party had consisted of Touma leading Tokui around to introduce him to a bunch of strangers while Quon Yue tried in vain to follow, and when Tokui had been released it had been announced that it was time for dinner. Sitting at the head of the table was, naturally, Seguchi Touma, with Sakano sitting to one side of him and Amai to the other. Alexander Sakuma-Winchester was sitting next to her, and Quon Yue could feel him staring at him from across the table every once in a while.

Touma's toast had been brief, even more brief than most of his speeches usually were. It was enough to make a few of the guests suspicious, but rather than question why all he did was raise his glass, say "to my future wife" and promptly sit back down they were just thankful to be through with the pleasantries so they could eat.

When the food was served Quon Yue was looking at his place setting with a rather panicked look on his face. Tokui just noted that his father must have consulted Shuichi on his dietary restrictions as he picked up a fork. He was about to take a bite when Quon Yue leaned over and whispered in his ear, something that actually tickled as it was a little known fact that he had quite sensitive ears.

"I don't know which fork to use," he whispered.

Tokui shivered. "Neither do I."

Quon Yue laughed a little. "Then I'm just grabbing the first fork I see. I'm from the streets. I'm lucky if I get to eat with _one_ fork." He picked up a fork at random. "And Christ, do you eat?"

Tokui blushed slightly. "I can't eat much. I have a lot of digestive problems and food allergies."

Quon Yue shrugged and speared the unidentifiable dish in front of him. "I don't want to know what kind of animal this once was, but I'm hoping wherever this meat came from was closer to the front end than the back end."

Tokui almost choked on his food before he started to laugh uncontrollably. Everyone at the table was staring at him now, especially his family. They'd never even seen him smile before, let alone laugh. Noticing this, Tokui blushed and slunk down into his seat, just wanting to disappear.

"I'm telling you, you have a pretty smile," Quon Yue told him simply, nibbling on the unidentified meat substance.

"Are they still looking at me?"

"Not so much anymore."

Tokui sat back up. The only one still watching him was his father. He groaned and began to finish his meal.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~

If there was such thing as heaven, Tokui was positive that it had to feel something like being in the arms of Nakano Hiroshi. His strong arms around him, pressing him to his hard chest, and the masculine scent of his aftershave lotion all added to a combination of feelings that almost put Tokui into sensory overload.

It had been unexpected when Hiro approached Tokui, who had been trying to hide behind the h'or duerve table with Quon Yue, and asked him if he wanted to dance as the band began to play a slow song. Tokui had never been much of a dancer, especially of the ballroom variety, and fortunately Hiro didn't have much more skill.

Tokui was resting his ear over Hiro's heart. He wanted to close his eyes, but just as he was about to he caught a glimpse of his uncle glaring at them. He was probably glaring more at Hiro, but it didn't keep Tokui from feeling uncomfortable.

He must of tensed up, because his quiet moment of reflection was interrupted by Hiro's voice asking "Are you all right?"

"I'm fine," Tokui said softly, closing his eyes again. He wondered dimly where Quon Yue was, but decided not to give it another thought.

All too soon the song ended and he was released by Hiro. He looked up into Hiro's eyes and smiled slightly before he turned and retreated. He didn't hear the conversation between Yuki and Hiro afterwards...

~*~*~*~*~*~*~

"Don't you think he's a little _young_ for you?" Yuki said in a tone of voice that made his real message quite clear: "stay away from him or I'll tear off your face and feed it to the wolves."

"Relax. I was only dancing with him because I lost a bet to Chen-san," Hiro reassured him. "I'm not trying to rob the cradle."

"What the hell kind of bet involves you being pressed up against my nephew like that?"

"Tokui wanted it. Chen-san bet me he could get Tokui to play piano for him and he did it, so I agreed to dance with him. He likes me a great deal, apparently."

Yuki looked around the room. He couldn't find Tokui or his elusive friend anywhere. "Where is he now?"

"How would I know? I think Chen went out for a smoke and Tokui most likely went to find him. You know, as much as I don't like him he's doing wonders for Tokui. He never smiled before he met him."

"Yes. That is a rather interesting development. I've yet to meet him, though."

"Consider yourself lucky."

"I'd like to know who my nephew is spending so much time with."

"I don't know where they are. If you can find them then more power to you."

Hiro started to walk away when he heard Yuki call out "Wait!" He stopped and turned around to face him.

"Is he really as bad as you say he is?"

"I told him once to stay away from Tokui and he didn't listen to me. Draw your own conclusions."

~*~*~*~*~*~*~

When Tokui found Quon Yue he was standing on the balcony that overlooked Touma's large and currently dead garden, leaning against the ballistrade and smoking a cigarette, staring up at the stars.

"I watched you dancing with Nakano-san," Quon Yue mused. Tokui was surprised that he knew it was him.

:"Aren't you cold?" Tokui asked, shivering slightly.

Quon Yue pitched his cigarette over the edge of the balcony. "You looked so happy," he mused, ignoring the question. He turned around and leaned his back against the railing, staring up at the sky. "I should have known you could see the stars if you have money. I always assumed that was a luxury only we really poor people with no money had."

Tokui looked up at the stars. He hadn't even noticed it was a clear night "I'd forgotten that they're yours."

Quon Yue began to finger the coin around his neck. "When I was a kid I'd lay down on my roof and watch them all night. Just watching. And I'd wonder what they'd seen. How many sad little boys with shitty lives they'd watch. How many unsolved crimes they were witness to. How many clandestine romances they were keeping the secret of. How many others were looking up at the same time I was and thinking the same things. How many people had ever turned for them for comfort the same way I did."

Tokui swallowed and nodded. Quon Yue sounded more like he was talking to himself, his eyes faraway and the same dark blue as the sky right now.

"I was always like the night. Dark and mysterious and forgiving. I was like the moon and the stars in that I never radiated enough light to make much of a different. And you're like the day. Like sunlight. Even your smile leaves a resounding impact on people. So light and radiant."

Quon Yue pointed up at the sky. "I used to count them all. It was impossible to count them, of course, but it made me feel better. By giving them names and numbers I was making them my friends. Sometimes, on days when I felt empty, I'd wonder if a star had burnt out. On cloudy nights I felt lonely. On rainy nights I felt cold. On stormy nights I'd hurt. On snowy nights I felt dead. I still do. It's like being cut off from my life source, like being deprived of something as precious as oxygen."

Quon Yue seemed to snap out of whatever trance he was in as he turned and looked at Tokui. "So, are you having fun?"

Tokui had tears in his eyes as he stared at him silently. Suddenly, he launched himself at Quon Yue, embracing him tightly. "I don't want you to hurt," he whispered, sobbing on his shoulder. "I don't want you to ever hurt. Never again."

At first Quon Yue didn't quite know what to make of this. Slowly he placed his hand on his best friend's back. holding him against him. "I didn't mean to make you cry," he whispered sincerely. "I really didn't mean to. Doi m'jui²..."

Tokui sniffled and began to back away from him. He stopped before they had broken physical contact completely, though, and just looked into Quon Yue's eyes, which were now sky blue and full of sorrow. Tokui put his arms around Quon Yue's shoulders, as if trying to support himself.

"You've never been kissed, have you?" Quon Yue asked, his voice sounder deeper somehow with the tone he spoke with.

Tokui shook his head, looking deep into Quon Yue's eyes. Before he could register what was happening their lips were pressed together. At first Tokui was too shocked to do anything, but as he felt Quon Yue's tongue touching his lips he parted them, allowing Quon Yue to enter his mouth, to taste and explore every part of it. Tokui was unsure of what he was supposed to do, and tried to conjur the memories of his uncle's books and their detailed descriptions of kissing. He began to rub his tongue along his best friend's, tracing it down to the base, tasting the inside of his mouth. It was a strange taste, and he was slightly offput by the taste of cigarettes, but he closed his eyes and leaned into the kiss anyway, trying to mimic Quon Yue's movements.

To Quon Yue, the other's complete lack of experience was obvious. He was doing a rather poor job of attempting to mimic his movements and every once in a while he would break slightly to breathe. But still these movements were somehow cute, a testament to his innocence. After all, not every kid grew up practicing their kissing on total strangers...

Just as Tokui was starting to get the hang of the kiss, though, something interrupted them. The doors to the balcony flew open with a loud *SMACK* as they hit the walls to either side of them.

"What the hell is going on out here?!" Touma fumed, looking at his son entangled in Quon Yue's embrace, lips still swollen from their kiss.

"T-Tousan..." Tokui whispered.

Yuki walked up behind Touma and looked at them, gasping as he saw the way they were holding each other. "Tokui, get back in here," he ordered.

"And why the hell are you taking advantage of my son?" Touma scolded Quon Yue, whose eyes were now white.

"I-I was...I was just..."

"I wanted him to do it," Tokui announced, causing both his father and his uncle to glare at him. "I-I wanted to be kissed. I wanted him to kiss me. Don't yell at him. It wasn't his fault."

"I think it's time we go home," Yuki announced, guiding Tokui back into the house. Shuichi was standing off to the side, watching the scene, and he ran to catch up with him.

"Yuki, he's sixteen years old and he's never been kissed before. How can you blame him?" Shuichi asked.

"I don't want to talk about it," Yuki muttered, leaving the house.

"Eiri-ojisan, I am so sorry-"

"I said I don't want to talk about it!"

~*~*~*~*~*~*~

"I think you should find Nakano-san and leave," Touma told Quon Yue firmly.

Quon Yue just nodded dumbly, walking by his boss. He could smell the strong scent of alcohol coming from him, and suddenly the reason for his strange speech earlier had become clear. He didn't comment on this, however, as he went to go find Hiro.

Touma walked over to where his bottle of scotch was and poured it into his glass, drinking it all at once.

"Tousan, I don't think you should have any more," Amai said, appearing next to him.

"I know what I'm doing," Touma told her. His voice wasn't even slurred, but by the look in his eyes it was obvious he'd had too much all ready.

"Tousan, please don't," Amai begged.

Ryuuichi approached Touma just then and looked up at him. He and Kumagorou were similarly attired with their tuxedos with light blue cummerbunds. "You don't look too good, Touma," Ryuuichi told him, his voice sounding far too serious. "You should go to bed."

"Dammit, I am fine, all right!" Touma cried out, dropping his glass. "Why does everyone here think it's a crime for me to fix myself a drink?"

He walked through the pile of broken glass and back out onto the floor, Amai close behind.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~

"You know, for someone so smart you really are damn stupid!" Hiro cried out. "Making out with the son of Seguchi Touma in his own home?! That's your boss, for Chrissakes! We could both lose our jobs!" He glanced over at Quon Yue, who was leaning against the door, his forehead pressed up against the window. "Hey, are you all right? Chen? Hello, Earth to Chen..."

~*~*~*~*~*~*~

She hated it when her cat climbed up onto the roof. She was too old to walk around the house and climb the fire escape up to find it and bring it back down, but at the moment the old woman had no other choice. Her knees ached as she climbed up the steps, carefully judging the position of each step in the dark. She finally made it to the top of the roof, calling for her cat.

As she stood on the roof, however, she realized she wasn't alone. That strange boy from upstairs, the one that supposedly didn't exist, was standing there. He couldn't have been much older than ten, and he was wearing a dark school uniform, his dark blue hair shoulder-length. His collar that he wore was just barely visable under the collar of his school uniform, and he gazed up at the night sky, pointing at something and mumbing to himself.

"Boy, what the hell are you doing?" she asked him. "It's freezing to death."

When the boy turned to face her she gasped. His eyes were sky blue, and the pupil of his right one was slightly smaller than the left and twitching ever so slightly. And in them there was a wisdom and intelligence that frightened her. She wondered if he'd understood her, as all the shouting from his apartment had been in Chinese, but as he looked at her with a sad smile she knew that he had.

"I'm counting the stars," he said simply. His voice didn't have the accent that most developed from speaking Chinese all their life.

"Why?" she asked, feeling unnerved by the boy that police had tried so hard to find but never could.

The boy turned back around and looked up at the sky again. "To make sure they're all there."

End of Chapter Eleven

Notes-

¹ This comes from the old belief that Benito Mussolini, an Italian Dictator, made the trains run on time. Quon Yue just called Touma a dictator. More on this legend here: http://www.snopes.com/history/govern/trains.htm.

² Cantonese for "I'm sorry".


	12. Family and Friends, Part I

Goo's Note- Sorry the last chapter was so bad. I want to rewrite it sometime. I was really busy and had a lot of other projects going but I had a lot of pressure to finish *glares at peanut* so I released something that wasn't up to my ridiculously high standards for my writing. Sorry for that. Hopefully now I can slow back down and write at a more comfortable pace and write something much better.

**Heart's Façade**

**Chapter Twelve: Family and Friends (Part I)**

**Written by A Girl Named Goo**

"Well, that was a disaster."

"I wouldn't call it that."

"What would you call it?"

Shuichi shrugged. He was sitting on the couch, leaning against Yuki, still clad in his tuxedo. "I actually think that went slightly better than most of Seguchi-san's other dinner parties. At least we left before he could embarrass himself or anyone else."

"Yes, that is a definite plus. But you're ignoring our big problem."

Shuichi groaned. "I'd hardly call it a 'big problem', Yuki."

"Tokui making out with an older boy on the balcony isn't a 'big problem' for you?"

"No!" Shuichi confirmed. "I mean, they weren't doing anything else, were they? And Tokui insists that's what he wanted. He didn't appear to be struggling. He actually seemed kind of disappointed when his father stopped him. I personally don't see why it's a big deal. Chen-san is only two years older than Tokui, not twenty, if what Hiro tells me is right. And neither you nor Seguchi-san can get mad because they are both boys. Tokui is sixteen years old and he's never been kissed. Of course he's curious."

Yuki sighed. With reasoning like that, how could he argue? But his anger still hadn't subsided, irrational as it may be. "I guess you're right. But what kind of boy kisses his _male_ best friend simply because he's never been kissed before? He's only sixteen. He has plenty of time to worry about it."

"I was fourteen," Shuichi pointed out.

"What?"

"I was fourteen when I got my first kiss from Hiro, my _male_ best friend. It was our Christmas present to each other. He was fifteen and I was still only fourteen and we'd never been kissed before so we tried it."

Yuki sighed. "Should have known. And for two guys who have never dated you have the most sickeningly sweet stories about each other."

Shuichi shrugged again. "If it makes you feel better, Maiko caught us and Hiro wasn't allowed to step foot in my house for three months. I don't think his parents ever found out, though. They are a lot more narrow minded than my mother so he probably would have been forced to stay away from me altogether for a lot longer than three months if they'd known."

"Actually, that does make me feel better for some reason. Now I know I'm not overreacting about Tokui."

"Yes, you are. Just like my mother overreacted. Besides, you just feel better knowing I got in trouble because you're jealous."

"Jealous of what?"

"That I got my first kiss from Hiro and not from you."

"I am not jealous!"

"Your ears are turning red."

"Go to hell."

Shuichi kissed Yuki on the cheek. "You were my _first_ first, though. The only times I've slept with Hiro you know about."

"That's nice to know."

Shuichi was quiet for a few moments. "Does oral count?"

"What?!" Yuki sat up and looked down at Shuichi, who promptly blushed and buried himself deeper into the black leather cushion.

"Never mind," he said softly. After Yuki had relaxed again, he leaned against him once more. "So who was your first kiss with?"

"We're off topic."

"Tell me!"

Yuki sighed. "First woman I ever slept with. I was eighteen. Happy?"

"Mmm." Shuichi was curling up against Yuki now. "Lets just forget about going to bed and sleep here. You're too warm for me to want to get up."

"I still need to talk to Tokui."

"Tomorrow."

"You're the one that got me to calm down."

"Sleep on it."

"Get up. You don't want to sleep in that tuxedo, anyway."

"I don't want to sleep in anything."

"Tokui's here."

Shuichi sighed and hauled himself to his feet. "If being parents means we can't do that anymore, I might want to rethink my decision."

Yuki sighed and also stretched his tall frame. "I hardly think of us as parents."

"We're more parents to Tokui than Touma and Mika."

Yuki sighed and walked in the direction of his office. "I know. I wish they'd let us adopt him when he was little. They only wanted to keep him on a matter of principal, and possibly because of what the media would say." Just as he was about to open the door he felt an arm slide around his waist.

"Yuki, you _are_ his father," Shuichi told him firmly. "You might not be by name or by blood, but you are the only real father he has. You are the only one who has ever taken care of him, who ever visited him in the hospital, who ever supported him. You are the only one who has ever done things for him with him in mind. That's more than Seguchi-san has ever even _tried_ to do, and that's why you're his father, not him."

Yuki kissed the top of Shuichi's pink head. "Thank you," he said sincerely, detaching Shuichi from his waist. As he walked into the office he shot back over his shoulder "But if I'm his father, then that makes you his mother."

"I wouldn't go _that_ far"

~*~*~*~*~*~*~

It was still dark out when Quon Yue forced his eyes open. Though he was having trouble seeing his surroundings he immediately knew that this was not his apartment. Upon further inspection he realized his surroundings were quite familiar, and after taking a few moments to clear his head he promptly realized exactly where he was: Hiro's bedroom.

Quon Yue sat up on the bed. He was still wearing the tuxedo, though sans tie, jacket, and cummerbund. Why would Hiro be so nice to him? Especially after what he'd done earlier that night....

After taking a moment to clear his head and trying (but failing) to recollect the events that lead to him falling asleep in Hiro's bed he stumbled out into the living room. Hiro was stretched along the couch, asleep and wearing nothing but his boxers. The TV was on, providing the only light in the house.

_God, he's hot when he's asleep_, Quon Yue thought to himself. His plan was to put on his shoes and jacket and walk home without disturbing Hiro. But the old adage about the best-laid plans proved true once again

"Glad to see you're up," Hiro said as Quon Yue was tying his shoes. Quon Yue looked over at him just in time to see him stretching. If it weren't for his friendship with Tokui, Quon Yue would have found him irresistible and taken him then and there.

"I was just leaving. I'll be out of your hair in a minute," Quon Yue told him as he tried to finish tying his right shoe. His feelingless finger, which already took a lot of practice and patience to manipulate properly, had decided to fail him entirely.

"No, you're not," Hiro told him. "You'll freeze to death. And besides, it's rude to leave without thanking me."

Quon Yue gave up on the shoe and kicked them both off again. "I don't like feeling I owe you something. I like it when people owe me favors, not the other way around."

"Too bad. I brought you here and I gave up my bed for you. Might as well stay the whole night and make the whole thing complete. Eat my food. Take more of my clothes."

"I'll give them back! For chrissakes, are you just trying to make me feel bad or are you making an attempt at being nice? If it's the latter then you're failing."

Hiro sighed as Quon Yue threw himself into a chair. He appeared to be searching for something, and when Hiro pointed to the kitchen where the jacket of his tuxedo was draped over the back of a chair Quon Yue just scowled at him, walked into the kitchen, fished his cigarettes and lighter from the jacket, and sat back down.

"I was just being a decent human being. I don't know what happened in the car. You passed out or zoned out or something. I could lead you around but you just had this blank look in your eyes. I didn't feel right just throwing you out of the car in front of your shitty apartment building and speeding off into the night."

Quon Yue lit a cigarette. "You should have. Wouldn't have been the first time, except every other time I am usually unconscious, bleeding to death, or both."

"What the hell do you _do_?" Hiro asked, though he thought he already knew the answer.

"Little of this, little of that," was the simple response. He flicked his ashes onto the floor. "Prostitution one night, drug dealing the next. Played bookie a few times. I'm good with numbers. If it's illegal and profitable I've probably done it at least a few times. Cigarette?"

Without even thinking Hiro took the pack that was offered to him. Quon Yue tossed him the lighter, which he promptly used to light the cigarette and tossed back.

"I didn't know you smoked," Quon Yue mused.

"I don't. At least, I'm not supposed to. I quit 16 years ago after Shuichi lost his arm because of a pack of cigarettes."

"Addicted as I am I don't think I'd literally risk life and limb for them."

"Wasn't his choice. Yuki Eiri sent him out for them and he got hit by a car while buying them."

"Did he feel bad about it?"

"I think he was guilty about it at the time. He quit smoking, at the very least. I don't ever remember him apologizing, though. He's a prick. Much like you. If he hadn't caught you making out with the boy who is practically his son you two probably would have gotten along famously."

"Ah, so the ulterior motive is revealed," Quon Yue said knowingly, taking a drag off of his cigarette. He flicked more ashes onto the carpet. "You just wanted to lecture me about _that_. He wanted it. It was my idea, but he said he wanted it. I'll bet he's still saying that's what he wanted. He didn't seem to mind it one bit when it happened, that's for sure."

"I don't give a shit about your reasoning. Whether he wanted it or not you should know better. You're an eighteen-year-old whore; he's an innocent sixteen-year-old. I don't like the idea of you two being friends one bit, and the prospect of you two being anything more makes my hair curl." Hiro flicked his own ashes into his hand.

"We're just friends. Possibly slightly more than platonic, yes, but just best friends. You and Shindou-san probably made out when you were kids and you both turned out fine," Quon Yue told him. The final tone in his voice made it very clear to Hiro that he not only had no regret for what he had done but no plans of ending his friendship with the younger boy. He dropped his cigarette onto the floor and ground it with his heel, an action that made Hiro wince, not just because of the damage to his carpet but because of the pain stepping on a lit cigarette must cause. He had a feeling this was what Quon Yue was going for. Fortunately he wasn't wearing socks, or his whole foot would have gone up in flames.

Hiro sighed and stood up. "I'm not your father, and I'm not going to pretend to be. I made my token effort, and now all I can say is stay away from Yuki Eiri. If he catches you anywhere in the general proximity of Tokui he'll gut you like a fish."

Just as Hiro was about to leave the room a voice stopped him. "Do you hate me?" it asked softly, desperately.

Hiro turned back around to see Quon Yue hunched over pitifully on the couch. He sighed deeply. How he hated it when the usually cold and arrogant singer went and got vulnerable on him. It made him feel guilty about not liking him.

"I don't hate you," he said at last. "But that doesn't mean I like you. You do something to make me like you and that might change, but for now take what you can get."

And before Quon Yue could say anything Hiro slipped into his bedroom, still smoking his cigarette.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Amai was stretched along a couch in her father's office. While he was at work, he was still sporting a horrible hangover from the heavy drinking he'd done at the party and much of the next day. Though he didn't get like this often, when he did it became Amai's job to make sure business ran as smoothly as it usually did. This meant getting a driver to take her in at seven AM (fortunately everyone there early in the morning was too tired to give Amai a long enough look to realize she was too short to be Seguchi Touma), fielding all the important incoming calls, and when he finally showed up at work to relieve his body double to make sure no one saw him personally or the condition he was in.

This was the main reason most people didn't know Seguchi Touma occasionally came in late for work. Amai had played him on several occasions for several reasons to create the illusion that her father was as reliable to arrive at the office at seven AM as the sun was to rise in the morning. All he had to do was slip in the back way (Amai went in the front door and greeted everyone there in the same fashion her father did on days they pulled this switch), and using a route that Tokui would have been envious of he would manage to slip into his office without anyone knowing and take over. A few people noticed that he occasionally seemed to change clothes at work for this reason, but considering this was Seguchi Touma they thought nothing of it.

Amai sat up straight as the door opened. Touma stumbled in, donning his hat with the brim pulled down to conceal his eyes, which were bloodshot and had bags under them. He stripped off his feathered coat and put it on a rack, also removing the hat and putting it on the rack so he could run a hand through his hair, which was messy both with neglect and the sweating fits he was prone to as he vomited. It also looked quite greasy for this reason. Amai got off the couch just as Touma stretched his tall, lean frame the length of it, facedown in the leather upholstery.

"Feeling better yet, Tousan?" Amai asked, pretty sure she knew the answer.

"Get me a trashcan," Touma ordered weakly.

Amai was quick to comply, both because she always did what her father told her and because she didn't want to have to explain to the janitors where the vomit all over the couch and carpet had come from. At least she could hide it with crumpled paper in a trashcan.

Having done her job to par Amai sat down behind her father's desk. She loved the feeling of power she got from sitting in this seat, and looked forward to the day when she could safely say that was her position. "There's a meeting with a new act today," Amai pointed out after glancing at the desk calendar.

"Call it," Touma ordered before picking his head up and reaching for the trashcan.

Amai waited for her father to finishing vomiting up whatever remained in his stomach to speak again.

"Actually, I was thinking I could stand in for you," Amai said. "It's not like this person has met you so they won't know I'm shorter than you. You can step in when you're feeling better and they'll never know the difference. And if anyone looks in or calls it will look like you're working. Plus it would be good experience for me if I'm ever going to take over the company myself."

"Remind me to talk to you about-" Touma was cut off as he released a dry heave into the trashcan. "About you taking over the company. But not until I feel better."

"So can I try it?" Amai asked hopefully.

Touma sighed and wiped his eyes, which were watering from his vomiting sessions. "It would spare me from having to make up an excuse as to why I called the meeting. And you do need some practice handling the other acts here. And I trust you enough to decide if this person would be a profitable investment or not." Touma sat up, then clutched his aching head. "Just this once. But try to keep your temper in check and tell me why you did or didn't sign them when you are done. And if you do think they are good enough, don't sign the paper. I don't want to add forgery to your résumé. Just...pretend to or something."

"I won't let you down, Tousan!" Amai chirped happily.

Touma hauled himself to his feet. "You use the office. I am going to the executive washroom for the rest of the day."

~*~*~*~*~*~*~

"So your uncle's not mad?" Quon Yue asked in amazement, taking a drag off his cigarette. He was on the top step of the staircase between the fifth and sixth floors of the NG building, with Tokui on the bottom.

"Not really, I guess. I mean, he's upset and everything, but he admitted he overreacted and he just thinks it's hard for him to realize I'm not a little kid anymore," Tokui explained, scribbling away in his notepad.

Quon Yue nodded. This news was the second best thing that had happened to him all day, the best being when Seguchi Touma had rushed down the stairs looking an unnatural shade of pale green and nearly running over the eccentric young singer, who was too stunned to say anything even remotely witty. In turn, the NG president hadn't seemed to notice he'd nearly run over his son and the act that he disliked so much.

"Actually, that's kinda not fair," Quon Yue said, stomping out his cigarette. "You live with someone who cares for you and cares about you and you didn't get so much as a few strong words. I pass out in Nakano-san's car and I get a four hour lecture about corrupting innocent youth."

"I'm sorry," Tokui offered weakly as his friend descended the staircase. He was wearing a pair of light blue jeans (which he had left at Hiro's the first time he'd stayed there) and a too-large, dark blue button-up shirt that was buttoned up to all but the top button, though it kept sliding off his right shoulder to reveal the strap of the whit tank-top he wore underneath. Tokui noted that Quon Yue somehow seemed smaller now that he'd seen him wearing the tuxedo, though he really didn't look any different, nor was he dressed any different presently ("different" and "normal" both being relative terms for him).

"I was being sarcastic," Quon Yue explained. "Really, I'm happy you got off the hook." Tokui blushed, smiled, and leaned forward, placing a small kiss onto his friend's lips. Quon Yue smiled back. "Now what did I do to deserve that?"

Tokui shrugged. "I just felt like being spontaneous now that I know you don't mind."

Quon Yue reached out and touched Tokui's face lightly, looking into his wide golden eyes. After a few moments he leaned down and kissed the younger boy, slightly longer than Tokui's kiss had been but still very simple and chaste. "I just think it's good that you don't mind."

~*~*~*~*~*~*~

"This is all they do," Koji explained, leaning against the doorframe. Saki was sitting at the long table of the empty conference room, tapping a CD case against the solid oak table. Alexander had moved a chair into the corner and was now currently cleaning his gun. Amai, on the other hand, was no where to be seen. Shuichi was just watching them all from the hall.

"Where's Amai?" Shuichi asked.

Koji shrugged, hands buried deep into his pockets. "Officially, she's with her father. Confidentially..." He removed his hand to reveal a small gadget that looked like a personal organizer. "She's standing in for her father at a meeting." He put the gadget back into his pocket.

Shuichi widened his eyes in amazement. "She can do that?"

Koji nodded. "Can and has, from what I've managed to find. Seguchi Touma has a bit of a drinking problem, you see. He also has a rather low tolerance for alcohol, which leads to some pretty painful hangovers. Rather than appear at work late or not appear at all on these days he has Amai stand in for him and no one's the wiser. At least, before he hired me."

"How did you-?"

"That's classified. I've told you too much already." Koji suddenly put a finger onto the earpiece in his ear and went quiet. "Amai's coming," he said softly.

As if by magic, the teen herself suddenly appeared from around the corner. "Sorry I'm late!" she announced to both the people in the hall and the people in the conference room. "Had to run an errand for my father."

"Well, it's about damn time," Saki told her, clearly annoyed. "Some of us have lives, you know!"

"And do you think I was just sitting around having tea?" Amai asked coolly. "I am not just an act here, you know: I do a lot of stuff for the company, too. I'm going to be vice president someday soon. And then I'll be your boss and you'll regret treating me like this!"

"You are nothing but a bootlicking, suck-up daddy's girl!" Saki accused.

"You're nothing but a two bit whore!" Amai countered.

"At least my father isn't a fruit!"

"At least my father is alive!"

There was a click, and everything in the room went quiet as all eyes slowly turned to Alexander, who was staring at the scene with eyes narrowed and gun ready to shoot. "There's such thing as crossing the line," he said coldly. "And I believe you two have done just that. Now are you going to play nice..." He fired a shot into the table. "Or are you not going to play at all?"

There was an awkward moment of silence, punctuated by another click of the hammer. Amai and Saki just looked like a pair of deer caught in the headlights of an oncoming semi. Even Shuichi was frozen in place: he'd known the boy shared K's love of guns and willingness to use them, but when combined with the "serious mode" he'd inherited from Ryuuichi he seemed like a truly dangerous adversary.

The only person not frightened in the least was Koji, as he stepped into the room and easily plucked the gun from the boy's grip, uncocking the hammer and ejecting the cartridge. "Little kids shouldn't play with such adult toys," he scolded, voice quiet but firm. "They'll hurt themselves or someone else." He handed the gun back, but pocketed the cartridge. "If you can find me later I'll give it back."

Alexander looked at Koji, eyes widening and then softening as he looked at everyone else standing in front of him. "I'm sorry," he said, looking down at the floor and blushing. "I don't know what happened. I-I lost control or something."

"It's okay," Saki said slowly, Amai nodding next to her. "I mean...you didn't hurt anyone, right?"

Koji slipped quietly out into the hall while no one was paying attention to him.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Koji didn't expect to find Seguchi Tokui and Chen Quon Yue on the staircase as he made to exit the building. But sure enough, there they were. They were deep in conversation, but rather than try to listen he simply walked past them, causing them to cease conversation. Quon Yue stopped in his tracks and looked down at him, fascinated by his light steps and powerful yet quiet aura.

"You might want to go find Shindou-san, Seguchi-san," he shouted behind him, voice thickly accented.

Quon Yue gasped, recognizing the accent. "Nay hui meen gou ah?!" he called over the edge of the staircase.

"M gan yiu¹," Koji shouted back over his shoulder. Then he was gone.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~

It was dark in the apartment when Shuichi and Tokui arrived home, having been dropped off by Hiro as usual. Tokui had seemed withdrawn all through the trip; moreso than he usually was. Shuichi had to actually inform him that the car had stopped in front of the apartment. 

Tokui's eyes were distant and almost sad as Shuichi helped him into the apartment. He'd never seen the boy so upset before, and he found himself growing increasingly more worried each moment the already too-quiet teen didn't speak or even give any indication that he was part of the living world.

It was dark inside the apartment. The only lights Shuichi could see came from the muted television set and the light above the stove. Things were getting stranger by the minute, especially when he saw that Yuki was sitting on the couch, head resting on the leather back so that he was facing the ceiling, long legs crossed. As he heard the door open and closed he looked up to see his lover and very depressed nephew.

"Come here, Tokui," Yuki ordered, patting the couch next to him. His nephew obeyed, sitting down next to his uncle, who promptly wrapped an arm around him.

"What's going on?" Shuichi asked nervously, feeling like he'd missed something important.

Yuki sighed and put his head on the back of the couch again. "My father's dead," he said offhandedly.

"What?" Shuichi asked in disbelief, kicking off his shoes and walking over to the couch. He sat on the other side of Yuki.

"Tatsuha just called a couple of hours ago. He died this morning. Nothing major. Just fell over and died. Which isn't a surprise, since he's about two hundred years old."

"I'm...I'm so sorry," Shuichi said quietly. "Is there anything I can do?"

"Don't be sorry," Yuki said. "He was old. He died. That's what old people do."

"Are you trying to say you don't care that he's dead?"

Yuki sighed. "I'm not going to pretend I'm all upset about it. It feels weird because both of my parents are dead now, but I was never that close to him. I don't know. I just get this weird empty feeling when I think about it. We might not have gotten along and we might not have seen each other that much, but I just took it for granted that he would just always be there. Now I've got this...empty place inside. I don't know how to explain it."

Tokui didn't seem to be hearing this. He had never known his grandfather, and considering he was already lost in his own thoughts he wasn't allowing the knowledge that he never would get to know him sink in.

"When's the funeral?" Shuichi asked.

"Four days from now. I'm going to Kyoto tomorrow. And I'm going to take Tokui with me."

"Want me to come?"

"Come if you want," Yuki said, standing and leaving Shuichi and Tokui on the couch. They both watched Yuki as he retreated to his bedroom. Then Shuichi looked down at the boy. He knew why Yuki wanted to bring him with him: Tokui was like a son to him. Having never been close to his own father he'd naturally want to be there as a father figure to the timid teen.

Shuichi gave Tokui a brief one-armed embrace before following his lover into their bedroom. Tokui just sat in the dark for a few moments before turning off the television and walking into his own closet bedroom.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~

"So your grandfather died?" Quon Yue asked from his place on the top step, smoking a cigarette. "Sorry to hear that."

"I didn't know him," Tokui confessed. "I never went with my mother to see him and my uncle didn't get along with him. He never came to Tokyo, either."

"And yet you're going to the funeral?"

"Yes. We're leaving this afternoon."

"Then why did you bother coming here today?"

"To ask if you wanted to come."

Quon Yue looked down at Tokui, as if to see if he was serious. He dropped his cigarette, stepped it out, and descended the stairs. "You're asking me to come to Kyoto with you?"

"Eiri-ojisan said he'd buy you a train ticket. It was Shindou-san's idea."

Quon Yue sighed deeply, leaning back against the wall. He was wearing a black ruffled shirt and white pants with black boots today, hair tied into a loose ponytail. "It's been a while since I've been to a funeral."

Tokui looked down at the floor. "I've never been to one."

Quon Yue shrugged. "Nothing to it. You go in, pretend to be upset, listen to everyone cry, enjoy some free food, and you're out. Unless your grandfather was religious..."

"He was a Buddhist priest."

"Christ," Quon Yue muttered. "Well, I don't know how that goes. Only funeral I went to was probably just for a formality. No one there was religious. Just the human instinct to bury dead bodies."

Tokui just nodded. "So are you coming?"

Quon Yue stretched. "Why not? I've never been to Kyoto and it sounds like a good opportunity to piss off Mr. Suit."

"'Mr. Suit'?"

"Nakano-san."

Tokui nodded and looked at his watch, taking out an inhaler and shaking it before taking two inhalations. "Let's go find Shindou-san."

~*~*~*~*~*~*~

"She has to go," Mika said firmly to her ex-husband, pointing at her daughter, who was sitting on the couch in Touma's office, seemingly unphased by her mother's demands. Touma still wasn't looking one hundred percent, but he was doing better than he had been the previous day.

"Why? She never knew her grandfather," Touma pointed out. "I'm surprised Eiri-san is going and bringing Tokui. It should be Amai's choice if she wants to go to her grandfather's funeral and she's made her choice."

"Are you sure that's not your choice?" Mika asked, a dangerous edge in her voice.

"Kaasan, I don't even know the guy," Amai piped up. "I've never been to a funeral and I don't want the first one I go to to be for someone I don't know. I'm sad your father died but it's hard to miss someone you never knew."

Mika couldn't believe how cold her daughter was sounding. She looked between Touma and Amai, then turned around. "All right. Fine. Stay here. Heavens forbid you do a favor for your mother."

"Guilt trips don't work on my, Kaasan. I know I'm right."

Mika just left the office, not feeling the chill that seemed to descend on it as she did.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Tokui leaned back further into his seat, looking across from him. Quon Yue was read a book quietly, also, keeping his glance away from the window. Across the aisle Yuki and Shuichi were just watching the two teens, not sure what to make of them. This was the first time they had seen the boys together since the engagement party.

"Don't like trains?" Quon Yue asked offhandedly.

Tokui shrugged. "First time I've ever been on one. I'm afraid to look out the window," Tokui confessed softly, blushing slightly.

Quon Yue leaned forward and looked out the window. "Hmm....just the flaming wreckage of another train in the tracks. We're safe."

Tokui couldn't help but giggle at that. He looked out the window finally. The scene he saw was breathtaking: snow-covered fields and trees and a light snow falling over everything, illumated only by a pale, cloud-covered moon..

"It's beautiful..." he whispered softly.

Quon Yue just leaned back in his seat and shrugged. "Stars aren't out," was all he said as he switched off his reading light, leaning back further into his seat. He looked across the aisle and noticed Yuki and Shuichi were staring at them, marvelling at the fact they had managed to maintain a normal conversation, and even more amazed that Quon Yue had gotten Tokui to laugh.

"Well, won't be in Kyoto until morning," he said rather loudly. There were only about three other people in the train car besides them, none of which were asleep. He then pulled a pillow from the bin overhead and stuck it behind his head. "Night," he said tiredly, slipping off to sleep easily.

Tokui just stared at him for a moment before following suit. Yuki and Shuichi, realizing they were both asleep, also did so, Shuichi using Yuki's shoulder as a pillow (even though he had one of his own) and Yuki looking at the two boys for just a moment longer before finally drifting off himself.

End of Chapter Twelve, Part I

¹ Roughly translated from Cantonese:

Quon Yue: Who are you?

Koji: It doesn't matter.


End file.
